


A Change of Heart and Mind

by Tiswabley



Series: Tiwabley's Abandoned Works [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s Hogwarts, 54 years in the past yay!, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Sex, And a bit of fluff, Angst, Attractive!Harry, Canonical Character Surnames, Consensual Sex, Depression, Dirty Talk, Evil Plans, Friendship, Good Slytherins, I did hours of research for this fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lord!Harry, Lots of Angst, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mostly minor ones though, Not So Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), Past Child Abuse, Plotting, Possessive Tom Riddle, Powerful Harry, Praise Kink, Realistic effects of long-term abuse, Sexual Assault, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Suicidal Thoughts, discontinued, many OCs - Freeform, physical assault, small!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-05 04:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 35
Words: 89,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16360370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiswabley/pseuds/Tiswabley
Summary: Harry didn't expect to run into a familiar face on the way back from an errand for his aunt, the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts. He really didn't enjoy running into Malfoy Senior, either, regardless of the circumstances. Of course, being an active Death Eater, Harry anticipated the man's attack.What he didn't anticipate was the vial spilled all over him, golden sand-like liquid sinking into his skin. When he woke up, well. That was something else entirely.------Harry Potter is thrown back in time to the 1940s, right before his sixth year at Hogwarts, and during the same year Tom Riddle would be attending HIS sixth year. What follows are plenty of revelations, more questions than can be answered in that time period, and the potential to meet a group of people who care about him for more than just his fame.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will keep Harry’s personality as close as possible, but there will be some OOC but ecause he’s becoming more true to himself (at least what I think Harry might’ve been like without Dumbledore, the Dursleys, and Fate hanging over his head).
> 
> Tom Riddle will be a bit OOC, too.
> 
> WARNINGS: Slash in later chapters, sexual assault, mentions of abuse and neglect throughout.

  

 

    Harry awoke to a dull throbbing in his head. Opening those startlingly green eyes, he was also vaguely aware of his shaking limbs that were attached to a shaking body lying in the damp grass, dew brushing cold wetness against any exposed skin. His mind was a mess of memories and images, trying to riddle out what had happened to him. There was a brief moment of clarity when the sixteen-year-old realized what hit him.

   

**_..._ ** _Flashback_ **_..._ **

   

He had been walking home from the general store, a jug of milk and some eggs clutched protectively to his chest. Harry knew that if Dudley found him, his cargo would suffer just as much as he himself would, and that was not acceptable. Aunt Petunia would just about kill him if he managed to waste money by ‘losing’ the food he was sent out to retrieve. Never mind the fact that none of the food was for _him_.

    No, he had been starved again that summer, just like the last five years. And his entire life before that. It had gotten worse this summer, though. Since receiving news of his godfather’s death, Vernon had brought the beatings back tenfold, enraged at the wizarding world at large, Harry specifically. So, when Harry practically crashed into a couple of people in strikingly familiar black robes, it was _almost_ a welcome experience.

    “Oh Merlin. Wonder what they’re here for?” Harry muttered sarcastically.

    The taller of the two stepped forward, and he caught a brief flash of white-blond hair from under the shadows of the hood. “My, my, my, what _are_ you doing away from your wards? The Dark Lord sends his greetings, Potter.”

    Harry rolled his eyes and scowled. “Fuck you, Malfoy.”

    Suddenly, there was agonizing pain. The curse had been whispered so quickly that the teen didn’t have a chance to mentally prepare himself for the nerve-damaging torture curse. He let out a whimper before it stopped, as quickly as it began. The two Death Eaters weren’t playing this time around.

    “You _must_ have better manners, Mr. Potter,” Lucius drawled. “Even a half-blood Gryffindor such as yourself should know better than to be rude to your elders.”

    “Sorry,” Harry spat, “but my temper’s a little short from dealing with my relatives.” He cast a pained glance at the groceries lying discarded on the street. If he managed to get away from the Death Eaters, it would only be to run right into the hands of people only slightly less likely to kill him. Sometimes he wondered why no one asked about his appearance at the start of the school term.

    Lucius cast a glance at the bag, then back at Harry and his stick-thin form. A disgusted look crossed his face for a moment under the mask, and he sneered, “Dumbledore can’t even protect his Golden Boy from filthy muggles? That’s just _wrong_.”

    Harry smirked, “This coming from one of Voldemort’s Inner Circle?”

    The other Death Eater, who had remained silent and immobile up to this point, pulled out a vial of golden liquid. The potion in the vial looked almost grainy, kind of like shifting sand. When the second masked figure uncorked it and tossed the thing at Harry, the teen’s instincts made him reach out and catch it, upending the entire thing onto himself.

    Lucius whirled around to face his ally, the bone-white skull mask hiding his rage. The other Death Eater simply Disapparated and left behind the Malfoy Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived, who was shimmering and flickering.

    Following the unnamed Death Eater’s lead, Lucius Disapparated, but not without one last annoyed glance at the Gryffindor Golden Boy, bane of his master’s existence. The world faded to black as Harry lost consciousness.

   

    **_..._ ** _End Flashback_ **_..._ **

   

    Harry gasped as he sat up, and suddenly realized that was a mistake. His head spun, still throbbing, and his tremors from the Cruciatus curse certainly weren’t any better. Looking around, he noticed that things looked very... different. The houses were either vacant lots or brand new, the few cars he could see were not modern in the least, large and bulky.

    The potion. That potion that had covered him, it looked kind of like... sand. Hourglasses, time, the faint shimmer that had covered his body. It really could only be one thing.

    _“Let it never be said I couldn’t figure out something so obvious,”_ Harry thought.

    Glancing down at himself, he realized he had nothing more than the clothes on his back and some spare change in his pockets from the groceries. Not even his wand, because _that_ had been locked up in his trunk with everything else before he could get it into his hidden spot under the floorboards. Harry had once again experienced his uncanny Potter luck, getting him out of a deadly situation and into one only _slightly_ less terrible.

    With a groan, he pulled himself to his feet and straightened the oversized clothes he was swimming in. There was only two ways to get himself out of this situation, and both involved contacting people he had no clue how to reach, given that he didn’t know what year it was.

    “Right then,” he sighed, “off to London. Hopefully some policeman will see me and take pity on me... yeah, like _that’ll_ happen.” Head to Gringotts, Harry thought. The goblins would have customer confidentiality, and would be more likely to help him than some random wizard on the street, since in the future he actually had a decent amount of money.

   

   

    After about an hour or so of walking, with only another seven or eight to look forward to, a passing car suddenly slowed and pulled up next to him. Alarm bells went off in Harry’s head as he recalled his aunt and uncle always telling Dudley to be cautious when approached by strange people. The teen stepped off the side of the road, aiming to put more distance between himself and the car, before its driver called out a greeting.

    “Hey, kid! You look like you need a lift,” he called cheerfully. Staring suspiciously at the young man, Harry noticed his vivid green eyes and felt a sense of familiarity. Shaking off the feeling, he stopped as the car did.

    “No, thank you. My... relatives told me to avoid strangers,” Harry replied politely.

    The man, only barely out of his teens, laughed at his reply. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, though, it was warm and friendly. Cautious though Harry may be, he wasn’t exactly paranoid, and this man seemed trustworthy.

    He motioned to the empty passenger’s seat, grinning. “Fair enough, but you look like shit, sorry to say. I was heading to London, business trip and all, and it’s in the direction you’re headed right now. Thought I’d offer a lift.”

    Harry looked into the man’s eyes, searching for deception, malice, anything. He didn’t find it. “I’m actually heading to London, myself,” he admitted, shrugging at the man’s wide-eyed look. It _was_ a long way, but he already knew that.

    “Bloody hell, you’d be walking for _hours!_ C’mon, hop in,” he insisted, still surprised. When Harry complied, he offered up a hand to the much smaller person. “My name’s Jack. Yours?”

    Harry actually smiled slightly. He liked the man, his friendly attitude. “Harry. What’s your business trip about?” He was curious about it, and there was a chance it could give a hint to what year he was in.

    Jack shrugged. “Real estate plans, it’s not that interesting, but it gets the bills paid, and sometimes you get to see what the future will be like. Brings hope to some of the people, bloody war we’re in right now.”

    Nodding, Harry filed that information away. War, there were only two in recent times, at least in the muggle world. Based on the cars, Harry guessed that it was sometime in the forties, because that was when Grindelwald was controlling the muggle leader, Hitler.

    “So,” Jack continued, “you gonna tell me what you were doing walking to London from Sheerwater?” He had a curious gleam in his eyes, and it was mildly disconcerting to Harry at how much the man seemed to pick up from a glance.

    He decided to tell him a half truth. “It was actually from Surrey, but I’d already been walking for an hour when you came by. I’ve got some people I have to see in London, and if I’d been smart, I would have kept more than spare change on me.”

    Jack let out an exasperated sigh, and ran a hand through his short, auburn hair. “Kid, you are _insane_ . I didn’t think _anyone_ would willingly walk eight or so hours when they could take a taxi or a train or _something_ faster.”

    Harry laughed bitterly, looking out the window. “My relatives wouldn’t care. Glad I’m going to be of age soon, saves me the trouble of dealing with them. It was bloody brilliant of you to offer me a ride, so thanks.”

    After that, the conversation strayed to more light-hearted topics, often filling the car with the friendly laughter of Jack and the sarcastic comments of Harry. It was a pleasant ride.

   

   

    An hour later, Jack pulled onto Charing Cross Road. The teen sitting beside him was staring out of the car with a relieved look on his face. If the man was honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave the kid there with almost no money and no way to contact anyone.

    “This where you want to be, kid?” he asked, unsure.

    Harry nodded happily. “Yeah, this is brilliant! Thanks for your help, Jack,” he replied, pushing open the car door. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime. We could have lunch, talk some more. You’re good company.”

    The young man laughed, and said, “So are you, Harry. Hey, let me give you my phone number, in case you need to reach me. If you’re ever in trouble, ring me up.” He scribbled something on a sheet of paper, and pulled out his wallet, taking out a few pounds.

    The teen stared at the money, surprised. “I don’t need the money, Jack.”

    “Take it,” he insisted. “I know you probably have some money, but not enough on you to even get a meal. If you want, call me later, pay me back. You’re a nice kid, you don’t deserve what you’ve gone through.”

    His eyes widened, shocked and fearful. Stumbling back a few steps, he stared at Jack, wondering how the man knew what happened to him. He was always so careful to hide it, and no one ever cared enough to ask.

    “I’ve seen how thin you are, Harry, and that look in your eyes is like some of the men who come back from the war. Please, do me a favor and take it for now?”

    Slowly, Harry reached out and took the money, along with the scrap of paper with Jack’s phone number. It was a precious gift, from someone who actually seemed to care about Harry for himself, not any title, no task he had to complete. Jack liked him as a person, and he could honestly say that he was friends with the man.

    Giving him a sad smile, he waved to the man and walked away, heading to the Leaky Cauldron just two buildings away. Jack watched him leave, casually strolling towards... a building he hadn’t noticed before. It looked more archaic than the surrounding shops and storerooms, an iron-wrought sign hanging above the door.

    The door opened, and he saw a person in a robe step outside, nodding to Harry as he disappeared inside the bleak looking pub. The person in the robe turned on the spot and _vanished_ with a loud pop.

    Jack turned back to his car, idly wondering if he had imagined the whole thing with Harry and picking up the teenager. He checked his wallet to see if the money he gave the kid was gone for real, partly hoping that it had been one massive hallucination, and that the poor boy who looked starved and exhausted wasn’t real.

He was.

 

Harry slid through the open doorway before it shut with a click. Inside the wizarding pub and inn, everything was familiar, albeit slightly newer and cleaner. At the bar, a younger Tom was washing out glasses peacefully, humming under his breath. There were only a few patrons sitting at the wooden tables, and the lighting was dim as ever.

Strolling casually up to the bar, Harry made sure his fringe was covering the distinctive scar before shooting the wizard a cheerful grin. He nodded to the two people at the bar who glanced up as he approached, and turned back to face Tom.

“Would you mind opening the entrance to Diagon for me? I don’t have a wand on me,” he asked politely, pinning the bartender with an innocent look. "My mum made me leave it at home, since we’re not supposed to do magic outside of school and all.”

The bartender smiled back, and replied, “Sure, kid. Give me a minute to get my customer a drink, I’ll be right over.”

Harry nodded appreciatively and walked through the back door to wait by the brick gateway. While many things had changed, the Leaky Cauldron would probably always be a constant in his life. He doubted even Voldemort would do anything to the crucial point for wizards and witches traveling between muggle and wizarding worlds.

After another five minutes, the green-eyed teen was walking briskly down the alley to his first, and most important, destination. Gringotts, of all the places he could go, would be the most likely to understand his situation and keep his secrets. There were no doubts that the goblins valued their customers, past, present, and future. Harry just hoped they’d have some means of financial aid for a stray time-traveler.

The bank was as magnificent as ever, with its finely carved marble columns, heavy wooden doors, and intimidating air. The guards standing at attention by the doors shot him suspicious and wary looks, obviously reacting to his shabby appearance. It made sense, to him, because why would a nearly-broke teenager who obviously had issues clothing himself head into a large bank other than to attempt robbery? Never mind the fact that he would not even come close to succeeding.

Arriving at the head desk, he gently tapped the silver bell and awaited an employee. He had no idea what their reaction would be. When a grumpy, older goblin appeared and stared down at him unnervingly, he took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself.

“I have some... sensitive information to discuss. I realize that I am not a customer at this _time_ , but I will definitely be one in the _future_. It would probably be in your interests to listen to what I have to say,” he explained. “I am a Potter, by blood.”

The goblin sneered, before nodding slowly. “I will take you to the Head Goblin here, and you may discuss things with him, Mr. _Potter_.”

Harry smiled in relief. “Thank you, Mr...”

The goblin looked mildly surprised, before supplying, “Whitepick, Mr. Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

“Come in,” a raspy voice called through the bronze double doors that led to the office of the most important goblin in the bank. Frankly, Harry was intimidated. His hopes for making a good impression in this time were riding on the goblins at Gringotts and their reaction to his tale. A blood identification test would indeed prove that he was, at the very least, related to the Potter family, but Harry had no money at the moment to pay for such a test.

Nervously, he pushed open the door and entered. The Head Goblin was inspecting him with unveiled curiosity. When the small person gestured to the chair in front of his desk, he sat as bidden, sinking into the cushioned back slightly

“Well, Mr. Potter? What do you wish to discuss with me?” he drawled.

Harry swallowed his nerves and let out a sigh. “Can I be sure of your absolute confidentiality? This must not reach the ears of anyone aside from the Gringotts goblins.”

The Head Goblin looked insulted. “Of course,” he snapped, “as a customer,  _ future  _ or otherwise, confidentiality and honesty are our most important guidelines for  _ any _ business dealing, to suggest otherwise is an immense insult!”

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m just not familiar with the way things are run here, as I am barely sixteen and live with muggles over the summer. I’ve only been to Gringotts  _ once _ , before! The things I’m about to tell you are very sensitive, and I needed to know if I could trust you.”

Here, the goblin growled. “Of course, apologies. Now, what is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Harry mentally ran through the situation again. Did he really want to tell the goblins about who he was? What had happened to him was unbelievable at worst, improbable at best. And he just  _ happened _ to catch a ride to London from  _ Surrey _ , preventing eight or so hours of walking? Sure.

“I’m from the future. Earlier today, or years in the future, I guess, I got doused with an unknown potion and sent at least fifty years into the past. Um... what year is it? I guessed that it was the 1940s, from the cars, but... I was in 1996 just this morning.”

“Really,” the goblin muttered in surprise. “It’s the summer of 1942, if you’re telling the truth right now, you’d have traveled back fifty-four years.” His head suddenly snapped up, eyeing Harry with an appraising look. “Would you be adverse to an inheritance test, to prove who you are?”

Harry shook his head. “Actually, I was hoping that you’d be able to prove it, because then you’d be more inclined to help me, right? I remember hearing that the Potters had a pretty big fortune, anyway.”

Snapping his fingers, the goblin summoned a wide stone basin, with runes carved over its smooth surface. Gingerly touching it, Harry could feel a ripple of magic from the ornate object in front of him. He sighed. It would require blood, he just  _ knew _ it.

The Head Goblin handed him a clean knife, plain steel glinting up at him. “I expect you can guess how this goes? Slit your palm over the basin, allow your blood to fill the bottom rune before stopping the flow. Normally, it would only take a few drops, but seeing as you are from the future, a stronger sample might be more advisable.”

Following the instructions, he pulled the sharp knife across his palm, allowing the hot liquid to drip onto the stone. It seemed to glow with power, and the Head Goblin carefully dipped a piece of parchment into the blood collected in the basin, smearing the thick paper. Once he pulled it out, Harry could see writing on the sheet, and quite a bit of it, too.

The goblin took one look at it, nodded with wide eyes, and handed it to Harry.

 

_ Inheritance Test - Harry James Potter _

_ Parents - James Charlus Potter and Lily Rose Evans (to be born) _

_ \---   --- ---   --- --- --- _

_ Major Families _

 

_ Potter - by blood (not claimable currently) _

_ Peverell - by blood (claimable)  _

_ Gryffindor - by blood (claimable) _

_ Black - by blood adoption (not claimable currently) _

_ Slytherin - by right of conquest and blood (not claimable currently) _

 

_ Minor Families _

 

_ Granford - by blood (claimable) _

_ Darrow - by blood (claimable) _

  
  


Harry stared down at the list in shock. How was he the heir to so  _ many _ bloodlines? It couldn’t all come from his father, no matter  _ how _ closely related the purebloods were with each other. Then there was the  _ Slytherin bloodline _ that he had never expected to see. By right of conquest, he understood. The defeat of Voldemort at his hands as a baby, supposedly killing the last living member of that line, would make sense, but he was also related to the Hogwarts Founder by  _ blood _ .

“H-how...” he stuttered, still dazed. 

“From our experiences with inheritance tests, even muggleborn witches and wizards have some relation to a pureblood line in the wizarding world. We normally don’t have the occasion to test our theory, but I believe that disinherited squibs having descendants in the muggle world is what causes muggleborns in the first place. It would fit with your bloodlines, Mr. Potter, and explain why you have a right to the Gryffindor line by blood,” the goblin explained. “The Peverell line is descended from the Slytherin line, and the Potter line from the Peverell.”

“So, mum was related to Gryffindor, huh? And my dad was descended from Slytherin! That means... my Parseltongue ability is my own! It didn’t get transferred to me by Voldemort, huh?” Harry muttered to himself, thinking rapidly about how this could work. “And there are some less obvious bloodlines I can claim, that solves my financial situation... bloody brilliant.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that you will be our customer once again, Mr. Potter. If you didn’t get it before, my name is Remok, current Head Goblin of Gringotts,” the goblin said, grinning viciously at him. He pulled several sheets of paper from the filing cabinet behind him, and laid them out with a delicate quill and ink bottle.

“Thank you, Remok. This has been an... enlightening experience,” Harry replied. 

“I recommend,” Remok pressed, “getting a medical examination and allowing us to set you up with a new name, for the time being. You certainly have the money for it, and you may be legally emancipated now as sole heir to claimable family lines.”

Harry rubbed his eyes, thinking about his physical condition. He hadn’t eaten anything in days, and he wasn’t sure he wanted the goblins to know about the Dursleys. Still, it was a good idea, all in all, and he might discover something new about himself.

“Why not,” he thought aloud. “Alright, Remok, let’s do the examination. What name do you think would be good to go under, anyway? I’m not all that creative...”

Remok grinned again, scribbling a few things on a blank sheet of parchment. “What do you think of the names Corvo, Gavran, and Elric? Corvo and Gavran mean raven in different languages, it would fit with your more  _ distinctive _ hair. Elric is a more modern version of an old english name, meaning ‘noble’ and ‘to rule’. It fits you well, Mr. Potter.”

The raven-haired teen rolled his eyes. “I swear, you’ve done this before. Okay, Corvo and Gavran are a little too exotic for my tastes. Elric sounds fine, but  _ really? _ Noble, to rule, that’s just... whatever. I think my middle name, James, would fit better.”

The goblin nodded his agreement. “James Granford or James Darrow? I’d lean more toward the prior, but the former isn’t half bad.”

“Granford. It sounds better,” Harry, James now, decided. “So, do I have to sign things? About the medical exam... will it pick up past injuries as well?”

Remok leaned over his desk and pierced Harry with a stare. “Yes, Mr. Granford, it will. It will also pick up on your less-than-impressive physical state, and any magical blocks or permanent charms or curses on you.”

“Hm. Oh, do you...” he mumbled, flushing slightly. “I mean, I haven’t... eaten.”

“Today? It’s nearly two in the afternoon!” the goblin exclaimed.

Harry, now known as James, flushed even more. “In... a few days.”

Remok gaped at him, and hastily scribbled down a note that he banished to whoever the recipient was. The boy was going to be fed as soon as they gathered the appropriately human foods they had stocked for their wixen curse-breakers. 

After signing a multitude of papers, the newly christened James Elric Granford was whisked away to an infirmary wing he didn’t know Gringotts even  _ had _ . Staring up into the eyes of the stern healer, he knew that he’d have a lot of questions to answer.

  
  


Six hours, dozens of tests,  _ lunch _ , and a forced healing sleep later, Harry had to be tied to his bed to get him to lay still. He hadn’t been told the results of the many scans and tests they had run on him, and with the way they were whispering to Remok, it wasn’t anything good. He was more than restless at staying still for so long, besides. 

_ “Of  _ course _ it isn’t good, you idiot! Remok told you what the tests would pick up on, they  _ know _ that you haven’t had food in days, and then there’s the Dursleys’ treatment. If it weren’t for these damn restraints, I’d probably actually run away,”  _ he thought, viciously berating himself for agreeing to the medical tests. He could’ve just accepted things as they were and gotten some gold, a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and a good meal.

At the end of his mental rant, the goblins turned back towards him and wandered over, serious looks on every face. Harry felt panic rising in him, breathing quickening and heart racing as terror enveloped him. What would they say? Would they be disgusted by him? He couldn’t take the charged silence that filled the room.

“Mr. Granford... there were some heavy blocks on your magic,” Remok finally bit out. He looked almost sick. “The fact that you have been able to do magic at all is impressive, and I’d like to offer an apology on behalf of Gringotts in the future, for not noticing the state of your health.”

Harry was calmed and worried by that statement all in one, and once again reminded that his name was no longer Harry Potter, but James Granford. “What... what do you mean?”

One of the healers let out a sigh. “Someone put a block on your magic when you were younger, probably around the age of five or six. It was left on, and blocked out about a good half of your core. Along with that, there’s a mental block designed to make learning certain things harder, like the Mind Arts, and basic memorization.”

His mind instantly leapt to the Occlumency lessons with Snape last year.  _ Dumbledore _ . The name floated to the front of his thoughts, and he  _ knew _ it was the old headmaster who had done this to him. From one and a half years old to the age of eleven, no one else had known where he was. 

“Can you remove them?” was the first question out of his mouth, the dark tone catching the others off guard. The healers all nodded, and Remok grimaced. 

“It will take some time, and it will not be painless, but it can be done,” a healer replied.

“Do it. I’ve experienced the Cruciatus curse before, I’m no stranger to pain,” he replied confidently, glaring at the ceiling from his bed. Once this was all over, and he found a way to get back to his own time, he  _ would _ face the manipulative old fool. For over a year now, Harry had wondered about the situations he managed to get into each year, and he figured there was no way that the supposed genius headmaster didn’t know what was going on at his own school. He knew, and he did nothing to stop it.

As Harry closed his eyes, preparing to fully immerse himself in his new persona, his last conscious thought was that if Dumbledore hadn’t blocked his abilities, he might’ve been able to save Sirius.

  
  


Waving contentedly at Remok as he left the old goblin’s office, James tucked a sack of galleons into a very nice leather satchel he had found in the Darrow vault. It had a good number of pockets, and each pocket had an expansion charm on it for more storage space.

After the blocks had been removed, he had been fed again. It was a full meal with a potion to ensure that it wouldn’t come back up, even after his... prolonged starvation with the Dursleys. The goblins even had put a note on file for the future, warning the Gringotts goblins to take action against the Dursley muggle family when Harry Potter eventually came to their bank. He had made it clear, though, to wait until 1996.

Now, James Granford was prepared to shop for everything he might need for his sixth year at Hogwarts. The only problem was that he needed to actually be enrolled in order to go to school there, and he was currently a homeless, family-less orphan on the streets of London with only the cash in his Granford and Darrow vault to his name (which wasn’t a pitiful sum by any means, but his family names weren’t that well-known).

Therefore, his first stop needed to be a pet shop, and directly after that, a supply store that had good quality inks and parchment. It was the first time he had willingly gone on a shopping trip for unnecessary things, and he was going to enjoy it.

Entering Eeylops Owl Emporium, he was surprised to come face-to-face with a beautiful Sooty owl, its large black eyes meeting his in a challenging stare. James grinned and reached a hand out cautiously, offering his arm as a perch.

The owl eyed him searchingly, but seemed to have found what it was looking for. It hopped onto his arm, and he carried the grey owl up to the counter in order to make his purchase. He was vaguely aware of the stares he received from other creatures by the prickle on the back of his neck, but the teen didn’t stop to look.

The clerk glanced up at him, smiling faintly. “Found someone you like?”

James nodded. “It seems to like me. Do you know what gender it is?” he replied, glancing at his new companion. The owl was preening itself calmly, not the least bit concerned by the attention it was being given at the moment.

“The females o’ that species are bigger. I’d say you’ve got yourself a male there, by his size. He’s a proud one, too. I’ve always said owls are like cats with feathers, but sometimes one comes along and proves me more right than I’d thought,” the clerk commented.

After paying, James made his way to a supply shop and hastily scribbled a letter to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, requesting enrollment. The nervous feeling was back again, but he knew that it couldn’t be helped. While he didn’t  _ need _ to finish his schooling, completing his education seemed the only possible future at the moment. He had always been so caught up with defeating Voldemort that once it was no longer an issue, he didn’t know what to do with his life!


	3. Chapter 3

The boy formerly known as Harry Potter spent the next week studying and reviewing textbooks from his first five years of schooling, putting to use his newfound memory retention and emancipation. The letter from Hogwarts had come on Harry’s second day spent reading in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, giving affirmation of his enrollment into sixth year.

He wasn’t sure what to think about the coming year at the castle he had grown to know and love as a true home. The teen was honestly glad that Dumbledore wasn’t the headmaster, but the man still taught at the school. Inquiring after the professors at Hogwarts down in the pub of the Leaky Cauldron had given him quite a few answers to what the school’s dynamic was like, who ran things, what the professors were like.

Armando Dippet was the headmaster, and while only slightly above average he was, the man tended to be well liked for his mild manner. Harry had also heard of Professor Slughorn and his ‘Slug Club’. Quite a few of the people he talked to about that inspected him more closely before promptly claiming that he would probably be snatched up by the man. It turned out he was a bit of a collector of rare and powerful people. Harry wasn’t sure what they meant when they said  _ he’d _ be chosen, but he didn’t worry about it for very long.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor was an older woman, strict but fair, and from what he heard, reminded him of Professor McGonagall. He honestly looked forward to her class, being the subject he was best in. True, it might not stay that way for long, given his new mental potential. The teen was quickly understanding and absorbing knowledge from all subjects, though he was still shoddy at Herbology, Astronomy, and History of Magic. The last subject just couldn’t help but seem boring beyond all reason.

It was almost time to go to Kings Cross station and board the Hogwarts Express. Harry was admittedly concerned about what the students would be like, whether he’d recognize any of them, or if he’d get to meet his grandparents. 

With the finances acquired from his admittedly large inheritance, he was dressed to the best of his ability, with a pressed white shirt, dark grey trousers that were actually the right length for once, and an emerald green vest that matched his eyes almost perfectly. The shop clerk had insisted on that color when she noticed he was looking through the jewel toned clothing. She said it brought out his better features, or whatever.

Harry thought that he looked decidedly feminine with his bone-thin figure and short stature gained from years of malnutrition. True enough, he’d never be  _ tall _ , but over the past few years, but he had hoped that he’d grow to be more masculine, with broader shoulders and maybe even some stubble on his chin. No such luck, and his hair had grown past chin-length. At least the teen’s outfit made him look good, handsome and mature. It turned out he’d inherited more of his mother’s features than everyone thought.

It was these thoughts that drew him to how decidedly Slytherin his actions and behavior had been of late. When all he had to do was finish school, no external expectations or requests from society as a whole, it was much easier to blend into the background. Like he had done when living with the Dursleys. Like his entire childhood had been spent. It wasn’t like Harry to seek out attention from the masses, and it wasn’t like him to push his problems off onto others. He had more of a habit of taking on too much, always trying to help someone in need. That was probably why Hermione kept insisting he had a hero complex.

He wondered, briefly, what his life would have been like if he allowed the Sorting Hat to place him in Slytherin, like it wanted to. It would probably have been filled with just as much prejudice and hate, but from different people. He was almost  _ glad _ Hagrid and Ron managed to influence his decision so much. It told him what people expected of him in the wizarding world and allowed him to create a more extensive persona.

Harry’s final evening in the Leaky Cauldron was spent chatting with the regular patrons about the war with Grindelwald’s forces and their predictions on how the bloody battles would end, eventually. Some thought that the Aurors would stop him, and Harry just scoffed at that, because whoever thought an average police force could stand up to a trained military was more stupid than the average wizard.

After packing up his things and eating a meager breakfast, still mostly unable to keep large amounts of food down, he took one last stroll around the alley. Diagon in the early morning was mostly empty, and a good number of normal shops were still closed. While the raven-haired teen was looking around, he found himself walking around Knockturn Alley, of all places. 

He had never really spent time in the Dark shopping district, either afraid of what could happen there or escorted by people who were too Light to even glance at the dingy place. The shops, while still mostly gruesome and menacing, were open in the early hours of the morning and looked to cater to the non-human races that frequented the wizarding world. There was a borderline legal exotic pet shop, the wand shop he had nipped in to get a custom wand before making a hasty retreat, and several different magical item shops.

Harry had avoided the more varied pet shop for a big reason, that being that he probably would’ve felt compelled to purchase a snake while he was there. Even if snakes weren’t  _ actually _ dark, evil creatures, the common wizarding belief was that the long, sleek reptiles would bite you as soon as look at you. He also hadn’t wanted to reveal his Parseltongue ability, either.

While glancing in the pet shop window, the green-eyed wizard felt his wand buzz. One of the more useful spells he had learned of late was an alarm spell designed to send a tingling sensation over the witch or wizard using it, with the feeling getting stronger the longer you left your wand alone. He had set the alarm to give him an hour to get to Kings Cross early, plenty of time to grab an inconspicuous compartment on the train and ward the door.

Turning off the alarm, he returned to the Leaky Cauldron for a bite before heading out. It felt good to be going back to Hogwarts.

  
  


Harry didn’t even bother taking his shrunken trunk out of his pocket as he sat down. There was no need, when he could easily keep it on his person, and it kept the risk of people noticing the darker subject books he had packed away in the container. While he still held firmly to his own morals and values, it didn’t do him any good to be completely oblivious and unable to recognize a darker spell when he heard or saw it. 

That was the thing about Defense Against the Dark Arts. There was no solid background taught to the students on the Dark Arts themselves, so how were they expected to recognize the curses and jinxes in order to defend against them? Anyway, Harry thought, most of the spells that he knew were about intent rather than the spell itself.

Glancing through the window, he noticed more people arriving to board the train. Some of the other kids had distinctive family features that he knew from their children or grandchildren during his time. The platinum blonde hair of a Malfoy appeared from the floo, and Harry smirked at the thought of meeting Draco Malfoy’s grandfather. If he ever got back to his own time, he’d take a moment and comment on how the Malfoy looks must breed true. Pointy gits.

“Now,” he muttered to himself, “should I lock and ward the door, or leave it and chance being bothered?” He remembered his very first year at Hogwarts, and how person upon person kept barging into the compartment he chose. Hermione had been very rude then, and Ron spent most of the beginning of the ride gawking at his scar.

He stood and muttered a more advanced locking charm. That way,  _ alohomora _ wouldn’t work, but people could still reach him if they wanted his attention enough. It also wouldn’t look like a very skillful wizard was in the compartment, only an average sixth or seventh year.

Which brought him to his appearance. One or two of the wizards and witches at the Leaky Cauldron had commented on how pretty he was, laughing and flirting with him. While this made it clear that homosexuality wasn’t as looked down upon as it was in the muggle world, he knew his features were very distinctive.

“Lengthening my hair, maybe...?” he wondered aloud. “I really don’t want to do anything to my eyes... they’re the only physical thing I got from my mum, according to nearly every single person I talk to.”

Harry ended up going with longer hair, hoping that the length would tame it a bit. He found it suited his face nicely pulled into a low side-ponytail, and it added to the impression of aristocracy already given by his finer features and stylish clothes. He looked and felt like an upper class pureblood.

  
  


Tom Riddle arrived at Platform 9 3/4 a full hour early, just as he did every year since his first. His reasoning, if one were to ask, would be that in order to get the compartment you want you had to arrive before someone else came in and took it. This would have satisfied all who knew only the perfectly polite schoolboy he allowed the majority of the school to see.

His real reasons for showing up an hour early were two things. First, he absolutely  _ hated _ the orphanage he was stuck in over the summer. He couldn’t wait to turn seventeen over this school year, because once he did, he was  _ never _ going back there. Secondly, every year after his first, he had met up with a few select allies on the train and held a kind of ‘court’, where they relayed information gathered over the summer, important events, and the like.

After carefully shrinking his trunk, now that he was within bounds to use magic legally, Tom boarded the train and headed towards his usual compartment, a larger one in the back that was almost hidden by its surroundings.

Placing his hand on the latch, he was surprised to find he couldn’t open the door. Briefly, he wondered who would have the audacity to take  _ his _ compartment, before he took a deep, calming breath and knocked.

He heard a faint shuffling on the other side of the door, a muttered spell, and the latch clicked open. The boy who slid the door open glanced up at him, and something flashed across his face, some emotion that was too quick to catch. Tom was curious about what that had been, because he had never seen this person before in his life. Putting on his model student smile, he offered a hand to the other teen.

“Tom Riddle,” he offered politely. “May I join you? It’s just that this is the compartment I usually sit in, I was surprised to find another person here.”

The other boy nodded slowly, gently shaking his hand. “H- James Granford. You may, of course,” he replied, just as politely, and stepped back to allow Tom entry. The Slytherin student noticed that Granford’s expression was carefully relaxed in a way as to inspire a sense of ease for the other person. His mental appraisal of the other student jumped up.

“So,” Tom began, still smiling politely, “you look a little too old to be a first year.”

Harry let out a sigh. “Transferring in, this year. I’m going to be in sixth year, if that’s what you’re asking me. Spent the last week and a half in a room in the Leaky Cauldron, reading my textbooks and making sure I was up to the standards of Hogwarts.”

The future Dark Lord leaned back against his seat and studied the young man sitting before him. He was abnormally thin, more so than Tom himself after a summer at the orphanage where they were all fed at least once a day. Very small and very feminine, with the long hair, if he hadn’t known the teen was a boy from his voice and name, he would have been hard-pressed to place him. He also had the most stunning eyes, but they were darkened by pain.

_ “You must have a lot of secrets, to have such an expression,” _ he thought to himself, internally smirking.  _ “I’ll make an effort to learn more about you, Granford.” _

Harry had picked up the book laid out on the bench beside him, and was tucking it away in a leather satchel that looked very tidy and organized. 

“Advanced Transfiguration? I’d say you’ll go above the standards if you’re that level in all of your subjects,” Tom observed, watching the boy for any hint from his body language. “I know better than most about how interesting magic is, but I sadly don’t have the funds to purchase extra books outside of school.”

Harry grinned. “I know what you mean. I recently came into an inheritance I didn’t know I had, and now? I could actually buy things for myself, for once! It was brilliant,” he commented, pulling out another couple of books. “If you want something outside of coursework to read, I’ve got a few obscure books on warding and artistic transfiguration.”

The green-eyed teen was nervously trying to get along with the person he knew would become Lord Voldemort, future Dark Lord and murderer of his parents. He wondered for a moment if warding the compartment would’ve kept him out, but thought better of it. He knew better than any to what extent Tom Riddle would go when angered.

Harry studied the other boy as he paged through one of the books he was handed. There was a sense of nobility in Riddle, something that his future counterpart was sorely lacking. He could see how the Heir of Slytherin had amassed such a following over the years, if this was what he looked and acted like. The only question was why he had changed so much. Lord Voldemort was undeniably insane, and Tom Riddle was clearly... not.

Tom set the book aside and looked back up at Harry, staring into his vibrant eyes. He brushed against the other’s mind in an attempt to glean an opinion of himself. There was mild confusion, layered above some shields that could probably be strengthened, with a little work at it. Something about this boy was intriguing. Tom wanted to learn  _ more _ .

“In a few minutes, I expect to be joined by some of my classmates and allies for a sort of catch-up meeting. I hope you don’t mind,” he explained, thinking of his Knights of Walpurgis. The group he had formed in his third year was still loyal to him, and carrying out his wishes.

“It’s no trouble. I don’t suppose you want to meet them alone?” Harry replied carefully. “I’d leave for another compartment. After all, I’m new here, and from what you say, you’ve been sitting here every year.”

Tom smiled chillingly at him. “I don’t really think that will be necessary. Someone of your apparent intelligence and manners would certainly be welcome here. After all, you might end up in our House later. The least I could do is introduce you.”

The other teen blushed faintly. Never in his life had he expected  _ Tom Riddle _ to praise his intellect, and certainly not get along with him as well as he did. It was... nice, being able to just be himself for once, and there was no hint of Riddle’s later insanity to worry him. 

It was worth the risk. “I wouldn’t mind, certainly. You know, the reason I locked the door was to keep out rude students only seeking to bother me and try and make friends with the new kid on the block. I don’t really have a problem with other people, as long as they’re polite and don’t insult myself or my... friends. Though I don’t really  _ have _ any friends here, I guess.”

Tom flashed him a stunning smile. He hadn’t missed the barely-there blush, and it would be fun to tease the other teen. “Brilliant, then. I’m glad you accept.”

Harry Potter closed his eyes and wondered what the  _ bloody hell _ he had gotten himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: In this chapter, I’ll start referring to Harry as James, because he** **_won’t_ ** **be using his birth name again for some time. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!**

 

James was fidgeting with his hair as he waited for Tom to speak again, or for one of the teen’s _allies_ to show up. He wasn’t stupid, though his old potions teacher would beg to differ. He knew that whoever showed up, they would be the future first Death Eaters. That fact, combined with the Dark-Lord-to-be wanting to introduce him, made him very... uncomfortable.

Through the window, he saw a good handful of people arriving to get on the Express, even though it was still very early. Watching those students and their families, James wondered about the differences in time periods. The clothing style was more formal than he was used to, with men wearing casual vests and dress shirts or suits, and women in knee-length dresses and large coats. In fact, none of the women were wearing pants or shorts. It was all dresses, and the robes that were standard in the wizarding world.

He was dragged out of his musing by a knock on the door. James glanced over to Tom, who was carefully bookmarking the Warding text he had been given, and turned to face the door again.

The taller teen stood and carefully dismantled the spell on the latch. When Tom pulled the door open, a very tall, thin teenager who could only be a Malfoy stood, waiting for permission to enter the compartment.

“Abraxas, how nice to see you again,” Tom greeted smoothly. He stepped aside. “Please, come in. There’s someone I’ll introduce you to, once everyone gets here.” Tom promptly sat back down, though this time, he sat next to James instead of across from the green-eyed boy. This made Abraxas’ eyebrows rise, and he studied the smaller boy with intensity.

“I brought you a copy of the Daily Prophet,” he drawled, pulling out the wizarding newspaper. “As unreliable as it is, I thought it might be good for a laugh. Grindelwald’s strength is apparently growing, they’ve supposedly gained _muggle_ recruits.”

Tom smirked, and replied, “They did, did they? I must say, the quality of Dark Lords these days is slipping. Next they’ll be wanting peace on Earth, and equal rights for the filthy muggles. I don’t know why Grindelwald has any followers at all.”

“I do,” James stated quietly. Tom and Abraxas faced him, the first with interest, the second with annoyance. “He’s probably a very charismatic person, and the average citizen needs someone to lead them, whether or not they agree with his ideals. From what I hear, he’s been using the muggle leader Adolf Hitler’s goals to further his own, because Hitler has been exterminating select groups of muggles based on religion, appearance, and sexual orientation. It’s a clever plan, to use soldiers you don’t care about.”

Abraxas sneered. “And I suppose that makes it _all right_ to work with a filthy muggle!”

“No, but he’s not working _with_ a muggle, is he? He’s _using_ the muggles to make his job easier and quicker. The muggles don’t even have the chance to accidentally discover us like they probably would if we tried to wipe them out ourselves.” James shrugged and pulled out another book, one of his artistic Transfiguration books.

Tom was practically ecstatic with the new student’s answer. “That’s true... muggles really aren’t useful for much more than cannon fodder, but if you manipulated one group into exterminating another, they would be focusing on themselves, rather than us. That _is_ rather clever, Granford.”

“Why should we be concerned about muggles discovering us?” Abraxas snapped, glaring at James. “It’s not like they have the power to do anything to us, we have magic! We could beat them with one hand tied behind our back.”

James rolled his eyes and sighed. “Typical pureblood. Did you ever stop to think that maybe muggles have something that we don’t? Muggle science is making advances every day, to the point where, with the press of a button, they _could_ feasibly kill 100,000 to 150,000 people in one go, and that’s not counting the leftover traces of lethal radiation. Besides the weapons they’ve developed, muggles have the advantage of sheer numbers. Our society is so small that if there was an epidemic we couldn’t cure immediately, it would wipe out nearly all of us. There are _billions_ of them.”

As soon as James finished speaking, two more people appeared outside the compartment. One of them, the girl, had long blonde hair and clear blue eyes, and she reminded him of Narcissa Malfoy from his time. The other one, an older teen, probably a seventh year, had wavy sandy blond hair and darker blue eyes.

“Ah, Nathaniel, Druella, welcome.” Tom stood and gestured to James and Abraxas. “We were just discussing Grindelwald and his use of muggle troops. Care to join us?” There was a vicious gleam in his eye, and James could see he was more excited about the topic that he let on. Riddle was planning, he realized.

The newest arrivals came in and sat down across from James, shooting him curious looks and glancing to their unofficial leader for instructions. Abraxas glared at James again, and the small teen rolled his eyes.

“If you dislike me that much, Malfoy, why not just say it?” he questioned.

Abraxas hissed, “Tom has allowed you here, it is not my place to question that.”

“You are correct, _Abraxas_ , now kindly refrain from annoying our guest. We must wait for the others to arrive before I introduce him to everyone,” the aforementioned unofficial leader stated quietly, but not without power. “I suggest you all read in silence until our friends get here.”

He seated himself next to James again, and everyone in the compartment pulled out a book or two and began reading. What some of the other students noticed was a family ring on the smallest boy’s index finger. Interest spiked again in the others, all the while leaving James himself to feign obliviousness. He was reminded of the inheritance the boy mentioned coming into recently.

Tom smiled to himself. The new student was very entertaining.

   

   

Finally, around half an hour later, everyone was assembled. The compartment was completely full, and it was one of the largest in the train. There were nine people seated around the small room, lounging on the floor, leaning back in the seats. Some of them were more recognizable than others, from the names James had heard thrown around, but he still wasn’t able to name everyone there.

Tom stood up, regal and charismatic as always. “My friends, welcome. I hope you have had a _productive_ summer, as I have not been able to, and I wish that you would all welcome a new guest to our small group, even if it is only temporary.”

He gently tapped James on the shoulder, and the small teen stood next to Riddle. Everyone there noticed how tiny he was compared to the other, and how similar their features and coloring was. Indeed, James and Tom’s hair color was the same, their skin color was the same cool-toned pale skin. The aristocratic features were slightly different, with the smaller teen having softer, more feminine features, but the well-bred appearance was still there.

“This is James Granford, a transfer student in sixth year. He has... unique ideas to offer, and I’d like you all to make him feel welcome, as members of the Slytherin house, and as students of Hogwarts,” Tom explained, stepping back. “Granford, anything to share?”

James pushed down the fear threatening to force him to freeze up. “Yes, of course... I don’t know what views you all hold, but I hope to avoid accidentally offending any of you. I’ve been homeschooled for most of my life, though by what Tom told me, I will easily meet the standards at Hogwarts. I’ve recently become head of my family, and I’m looking forward to going to your school to finish my education.”

A taller boy with straight black hair spoke up. “How’ve you become head of your family if you’re only sixteen?” he sneered, watching the smallest teen arrogantly, nose turned up in the air and head tilted back.

Tom shot him a menacing glare, but before he could scold the boy, James replied.

“My family died. That’s how,” he snapped, glaring back at the sneering boy. Some of the other students flinched at his harsh tone or his words, James wasn’t sure which, and he didn’t care enough to guess. “How else would a sixteen-year-old become emancipated and inherit everything their parents left to them? It doesn’t take that much brain power, I would’ve thought you could figure it out on your own.”

Tom sent one last scathing glare at the offending boy before turning another stunning smile at James. It seemed the smaller teen hadn’t noticed the flare of magic that accompanied his words. “Apologies for Alexander, Granford. Sometimes people _speak before they think_ , and can lack tact at times. You are absolutely correct, though, it _should_ be obvious how you were able to claim headship of your family.”

The only girl there, the blonde who resembled Narcissa Malfoy a bit, offered a hand. “My name is Druella Rosier. You seem like a respectable person, I look forward to speaking with you more. I hope you get sorted into Slytherin, I think you’d fit well in our house.”

After he shook her hand, the taller boy who came in with her stood and introduced himself, too. “Nathaniel Rosier. I’m Druella’s older brother. Pleasure to meet you, Granford. I recognize your family name, it’s surprising to hear it again, I thought it died out.”

James ducked his head. “My great-grandparents were living in America and lost contact with our family here during their civil war. We didn’t even know that the family here had died out until my parents and I moved back when I was little,” he explained.

“Well, in that case, welcome back to England,” he drawled, grinning. “Thanks for putting Lestrange in his place. Sometimes he and Abraxas need to be knocked down a peg or two, they’re so stuffy and uptight.”

At this, Abraxas and Alexander shot evil looks at Nathaniel. James chuckled a little, looking around at the different expressions people wore. It was odd seeing a group of Slytherins this open, but he supposed it had to do with the fact that they were in a more private setting, around people they knew and liked. There was, after all, a lock on the door, and no one could see into the compartment due to the blinds being pulled down. Everyone had the chance to relax around each other.

The one person who probably wasn’t relaxed aside from himself was Tom Riddle. The boy’s manipulative personality didn’t let him relax in the presence of others, and James knew why it was so important for him to maintain an image of perfection. From what he saw in his second year, even at sixteen, Tom had ambition, power, and the belief that no one could defeat him. It was almost sad how he had nothing to make him more human.

“Why don’t you all introduce yourselves before you give your report? I’m sure it’d help Granford with learning your names,” Tom suggested quietly, and the reaction was immediate. Everyone straightened up and put all of their attention on the dark young man and his slight companion. With a gesture from the handsome boy, Abraxas began.

“Abraxas Malfoy, Granford,” he stated. “Tom, I don’t have much to report that you couldn’t learn from the Prophet, given that you had me in my family’s library researching. I’ve compounded all of the information for you in a journal, which is currently in my trunk. My father is looking to arrange a marriage contract between myself and Helena Devereaux.”

Tom nodded, and Lestrange stood. “Alexander Lestrange. I’ve been doing as you commanded, attempting to gain allies among the Neutral Pureblood families. Some of them agree with our ideals, but do not wish to participate. The Zabini, Urquhart, and Greengrass families will not stand in our way, whatever the reason. I’ve run into some resistance from the Potter, Bones, and Prewett families, as they are so entrenched in Dumbledore’s pocket... they are going to cause trouble.”

Next, it was, “Nate Rosier. Sorry, Tom, but I’ve got nothing of value to report. I’m planning on working at the Ministry after I graduate, though, so I’m sure I’ll be more useful in the future. My family’s connections certainly aren’t to be scoffed at.”

Druella was much the same, except for the marriage contract between herself and Cygnus Black. Next was Jerod Avery, he had an idea of who to recruit in the other houses. Soon, the train started up and the remaining members of Tom’s group had gone.

Edward Nott was fairly friendly and amiable to James, though he was bit more detached and bookish than the others. Louis Mulciber was fairly dull, but good at charms. He even charmed green streaks into James’ hair, which had Nate claiming that the thin teen was truly a vision to behold. This brought another blush to James’ cheeks.

Tom just sat in silence, reading and watching the others chat. He caught Rosier’s comment and James’ reaction, giving him more insight on the tiny teen’s background. Either he wasn’t used to compliments, or the boy was gay. Possibly both. He motioned Abraxas closer, as blank a face as he always displayed.

“I think Granford swings the same way as Lestrange,” he whispered to the Malfoy heir, smirking slightly. “I’d appreciate it if you could... confirm or refute my suspicions somehow. Play a game, that... Truth or Dare?”

Abraxas grinned. “Always good for getting more blackmail material, either way.” He scooted away from Tom and said to the group, “How about we play a game of Truth or Dare to get to know the new student better?”

James swallowed nervously, glancing around at the others. Everyone looked cheerful or excited, he didn’t want to be thought a coward. Besides, there was no way for them to ask for a truth he wouldn’t give them. They just didn’t know the right questions.

“I’ll go for it,” he offered them, smiling. “A game would be a good way to pass the time, and I really _would_ get to know you all better by listening to who’s willing to do dares and what your mysterious truths could be.”

Tom pulled out another of James’ books. “I’m not going to play. You and I can talk later to get to know each other, if that’s alright. You can ask them, I never play the game.”

Nate nodded. “Tom doesn’t, though Merlin only knows how hard we’ve tried.”

Abraxas yawned, pointing to Alexander. “You first, truth or dare?”

Alexander sighed. “Let’s start off safe, truth, please.”

“What do you think of James?” the blonde boy asked, hoping to get Lestrange in trouble with Tom or James. “Honest opinion, we’ll know if you lie!”

“Dammit,” he muttered. Louder, he stated, “I don’t like James Granford, though I _do_ think he’s very attractive. He’s new, so I don’t get why Tom is letting him in on our meeting like he’s been with us for years.”

James rolled his eyes, and he was pointed at next. “Truth, please. I think you should all get to know me better.”

Alexander thought for a minute, and grinned. “What do you think of muggles and mudbloods?” he drawled, clearly thinking himself above the other teen.

“Muggles are very... creative for what they can do without magic, but I dislike them, I’ve only had bad experiences with them. Muggleborn witches and wizards are alright, I guess, but they don’t know how wizarding society works and bring their own traditions in and tear down ours. They pose a big risk to the Statute of Secrecy. It might interest you to know, but they’re all descended from squibs cast out of magical families generations ago. Just ask the goblins at Gringotts, they have a very applicable theory.”

He got some odd looks and sneers, but everyone was ready for the next person to be called. James glanced around the circle, thinking. “Nathanial. Truth or Dare?” He wanted to pick someone who seemed to like him, at least.

Nate looked skyward and called out, “Dare.”

The smallest teen didn’t look at all surprised by his decision, and replied with, “Go find the Head Girl and charm her hair whatever house’s colors most rival hers.” With that, he winked at the other students, and added, “Try to make it last a while, too.”

The boy groaned and turned to Mulciber. “You’re better at Charms, got any idea how to do that? The Head Girl’s in Gryffindor this year, so it’ll be green and silver.” Then he turned to face his sister. “Truth or dare, Dru?”

“Dare, brother of mine, I don’t trust you with the truth,” she replied primly.

“Kiss someone in this compartment. I don’t really care who, but depending on who you choose, it’ll be pretty damn interesting,” he commanded, before hopping up and racing down the train, away from the glares of the various men in the compartment. Even Tom had been included in her options!

Druella looked around, mentally running through her options. Mulciber was out, he was okay, but there were so many better options there. Alex, she knew, was gay, and she had no intention of getting on the Lestrange heir’s bad side. Jerod Avery was a jerk to her, so there was no _way_ she was going to give _him_ a kiss. Abraxas wasn’t that bad... he could be the one, but then there was the adorable new kid. There was absolutely no chance of her kissing Tom, he’d probably do something horrible to her, and Alex would be pissed. Hm... Malfoy or Granford?

She leaned across and pulled Abraxas Malfoy into a deep kiss after winking at James. She didn’t know which way he swung, and she didn’t know how he’d react. It was just safer to go after Abraxas and be done with it. He wouldn’t hex her or get angry.

“There,” she said breathlessly, pulling out of the kiss. “Avery, your turn. Truth or dare?”

Jerod grumbled, “Truth.”

"What would you do if you were a dog for a week?” she asked sweetly, brandishing her wand at him. He really was an asshole to her, she would _love_ to hex him into an animal.

He sighed, and replied, “Probably chase the person who changed me into a dog to get them to turn me back. Failing that, run around, sleep, eat, y’know, dog things. What kind of a question was that, anyway?”

“One designed for self-interest.”

“Abraxas, your turn, truth or dare?” he asked, turning to his friend.

The pale teen considered it for a moment. Either way, he’d get his chance to figure out Granford’s sexuality next round. Dare might be fun, but it’d take a while. “Truth, please. Dares usually take too long.”

“Fine. What do you think of the Gryffindorks?” he asked, just searching for a random question that had the chance to be embarrassing.

“Easy, they’re loud, usually annoying, to damn idiotic to know when to back down, and usually portray themselves as the hero in any situation. Simply put, I find them intolerable.” He turned to James with a smirk. “Truth or dare, Granford?”

James felt himself panicking. “... truth, I guess. After what you just said, I have the feeling that if I answered dare, you’d make me do something really Gryffindor.”

“So... which way do you swing?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 27 chapters written for this fic, and I will post them all, soon. For now, please look forward to some more within the next two days. ^u^

James took a deep breath. Then another. Then he counted to ten. He should’ve known that question would come up. Why couldn’t he have taken the stupid dare? He _was_ a Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake! No, he had to play it _safe_ and go with _truth_. Stupid game.

“I’m gay. Mulciber, truth or dare?” He squeaked so quickly they almost missed it.

“Calm down, Granford, no one’s going to judge you for that here! We’re not like those filthy muggles who think it’s a sin or something. You know wizarding culture is open to people who aren’t straight,” Druella pressed, trying to calm the kid.

The small teen pressed himself into the bench further, wrapping his arms around himself, across his stomach. “I know,” he replied in a small voice. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” Mulciber commented. “Truth, for me.”

   

   

Tom watched the new student’s reaction to the question. He played right into Abraxas’ hands when he chose truth. The question was innocent enough in wizarding culture, Druella was right about different sexualities being accepted in their world. That reaction, though, made him wonder if James had spent a lot of time around muggles.

Additionally, the way he answered the question and folded in on himself suggested that he had bad experiences relating to his sexuality in the past. Then, there were the apologies he had offered to the group at large. That question had cracked the boy’s mask, given Tom a chance to see more of who James Granford really was as a person. It only made him more interested in the stick-thin teen’s secrets.

A little while later, he tapped James on the shoulder. “Follow me, I want to speak to you about something.” His tone didn’t give room for disagreement, and the small teen shivered at the hint of command in his voice. It reminded him of what Riddle would become, years later.

The tall Slytherin nodded to the people in the compartment before herding James out after him. He indicated for the green-eyed teen to follow, and strode confidently down the corridor towards one of the prefect compartments. James was filled with a sense of foreboding, and his mind flashed back to his earlier confession, and how he reacted. Did Riddle suspect something, maybe a good source of blackmail material? Honestly, he had no idea what the manipulative boy wanted with him, and there were some damn good reasons to fear the teen.

Once they were in the compartment and the door was shut, Tom cast wards over the entry to prevent anyone from interrupting them or eavesdropping on their conversation. James took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for whatever was coming.

“Have you spent a lot of time around muggles?” Tom asked calmly.

James knew better than to lie about it, and a good majority of the expressions and idioms he used in day-to-day life were muggle phrases. There was no way he’d be able to hide it long term, and with Riddle, it was better just to go for the truth and hope for the best.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he answered slowly. “Why?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “The reaction you gave earlier about having to disclose what your sexuality is, it was blatantly obvious. That, combined with your half-starved appearance, leads me to believe something more is going on. What is it?”

 _“Half-starved?”_ James thought with a bitter humor. _“More like completely starved.”_

Then, the smaller teen frowned, deciding to play dumb, or as close as Tom would believe he could come to the term. “Nothing’s going on. I’ve always been small and skinny. Sure, some of the muggles didn’t like the fact that I was gay, but that has nothing to do with my physical health right now.”

“Come on, Granford!” he hissed. “It’s like a stiff wind could blow you over! That is _not_ normal, despite what you may think. You’ve been neglected, at the very least! By muggles! No wizard should suffer at their hands!”

That was not one of the many things he expected to hear. In fact, the thought that Tom Riddle might actually be _concerned_ about him hadn’t even crossed the furthest reaches of his mind. All James could do was stare in shock, open-mouthed and unsure how to answer. He looked down at his feet.

“Granford,” Tom began. “No, James. Did someone harm you? Is that why you were concerned about telling me?” He paused. “I assure you, I would not think any less of you if you were. While such things as homosexuality may be accepted in the wizarding world, they certainly aren’t in the muggle world, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s not uncommon for a wizard who lives around muggles to be discriminated against for that.”

James’ head snapped up, wide-eyed and fearful. “N-no, I just... I had to live up to a lot of standards, play a role for the masses. I couldn’t be gay, it didn’t fit their image of me. And the muggles... they weren’t exactly my biggest fans.” He wrapped his arms around his skinny waist, hugging himself and noticing again how thin he still was. He was as of yet unable to eat a decent meal without throwing up.

Since the small teen was looking at the floor again, eyes screwed shut, Tom placed a few fingers under his chin and firmly raised the boy’s head so their eyes met. “I don’t think that’s everything, James. If someone’s hurt you, you need to tell me, especially if it was a muggle. I don’t like how thin you are, either. You’ve been starved.” His voice was quiet, trying to coax the other teen into revealing more.

“Why do you act like you care?” James’ voice was cold, though it shook a little. “It shouldn’t matter to you what has happened or will happen to me. It’s not like you know me. I’m just the new kid, a little freak who’ll be bullied as soon as I step foot into Hogwarts. I bet if I’m sorted anywhere but Slytherin, you’ll drop me faster than you can say ‘Merlin’.”

Now it was Tom’s turn to be wide-eyed and surprised. Even though he wasn’t sincere most of the time, there was something about this boy that drew Tom to him. He was actually concerned for once, and yet the boy didn’t believe him, tried to brush off his quiet tone and soft words. It was a first for the ambitious, charming young man who was so used to people throwing themselves at him in a bid for his attention. It annoyed him to be brushed off.

“I care, James. I am a prefect and one of your acquaintances at Hogwarts, and I care about whether or not someone has hurt you,” he pressed, insistent. “Though I am sure you’ll be sorted into Slytherin, I would even remain an ally or a... friend of yours if you were sorted into Gryffindor, as loathsome as that house may be. I give you my word.”

James crumpled onto one of the benches, face in his hands. “How can I trust you?” he whispered brokenly. “No one has ever helped me before. I trust someone, and they screw me over worse than I was before. I can’t even trust myself!”

Thoughts filled his head, memories of Sirius, of his battle with the Death Eaters in the Ministry, his relatives mocking words over the summer, how Remus disappeared almost immediately after he was safely at Hogwarts. Cedric’s death, his stupid idea to take the Cup at the same time, tying as Hogwarts Champions. He couldn’t trust himself to make decisions or take action. That only got other people killed.

Tom sat down next to him, placing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer in an attempt to be comforting. It wasn’t often that he had to do this sort of thing. “What happened, James? Why can’t you trust anyone?” he muttered, carefully pressing for more information. He couldn’t do anything without that knowledge, even if it was just a brief outline, or a few hints at a bigger problem.

James shook his head. “It’s my fault. They died because I made a _stupid_ decision,” he snapped bitterly, words Tom knew came from his heart. “It’s not _their_ fault that they don’t want to help me. I’m a curse to anyone who gets close. My parents, a friend, my godfather... I’m just a freak who survived when I should’ve died.”

“It’s not your fault, James. Not unless you’re the one who cast the spell.” The taller teen ran fingers through the messy black and green hair. That charm Mulciber cast looked very fetching against the longer, wild locks of black that James’ face.

At the touch, James tensed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath. His petite frame started to tremble, and Tom hastily let go. Slowly, the boy returned to normal. His breathing slowed, and he gave Tom a shaky smile.

“Sorry,” he muttered again. “Not used to- to affection.”

That alone told the future Dark Lord more than he needed to know. It didn’t take a big jump to piece together that James Granford truly _was_ a victim of neglect, and verbal abuse at the very least. Echos of his treatment at the orphanage were dredged up, and he realized part of his desire to help the other teen was due to that. There was still something off, though.

“It’s no bother,” he replied, giving James a bright smile. Yes, this was the one thing he would personally invest time and effort in this year. Ulterior motives formed in his mind, to give him a few very Slytherin excuses if anyone dared question him. He squashed the little voice in the back of his mind that insisted he actually _did_ care, and proceeded with his plans against the muggles that dared treat a wizard like this.

He wanted James to be able to trust him completely, to share the details of what happened so when he found the people who did this to him, he could absolutely and utterly _destroy_ them.

   

   

Back in the compartment where they left the others, a conversation had broken out about Granford and why Tom could possibly be interested in him. They knew that if Tom heard about it, or came in and discovered what they were talking about, they would be punished. One thing their charismatic, charming leader didn’t like was his allies gossiping about him behind his back. If he heard all of the rumors circulating about him, everything was fine, but if not... well, it was best left unsaid what he’d do.

Abraxas was just getting annoyed by the wild theories thrown around by the others, and snapped, “Granford is just another pretty face Tom will use for his whims and then discard like trash. His ideas and values are confusing at best, he may seem smart now, but just wait until we get to school and he’ll probably crumble under the pressure of classes. He said he was homeschooled, right? Hogwarts is the best place for learning, by far.”

Lestrange smirked. “Of _course_ Tom wouldn’t _actually_ care about that little bastard.”

“I don’t know,” Nate protested, shaking his head. “They seemed to be getting along better than almost anyone I’ve seen with our Lord. Besides, he wasn’t treating James like a servant or an ally. He was being treated like...”

He trailed off, leaving those around him staring curiously. Nate flushed a little, and looked down, embarrassed. He had almost said something that was a taboo in their group. The Knights of Walpurgis, as impressive as they were, were never considered as equals to their leader. It just wasn’t true. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a genius, and the Heir of Slytherin. No one could be his equal, not after all the teen had done to prove himself.

“What is it, Nathaniel?” Louis Mulciber asked quietly. He liked the petite teen, the boy was polite, quiet, and easygoing, unlike most of the others in their group. Nate and Druella were the closest to being that open, but they still adhered to the pureblood standards of behavior in the public eye.

The aforementioned seventh year smiled sadly. “It’s nothing, I shouldn’t even think something like that, let alone say it aloud. Tom Riddle is the finest leader we could ever hope to follow, someone like him isn’t even approachable to most people.”

He had worded his response carefully enough to insinuate what thought he had stopped himself from speaking. Some of the others found themselves agreeing to the idea, even though it went against what they had believed for years.

Alexander, however, had a different reaction. Horrified, he stood angrily. “How could you even _hint_ at something like that, Rosier,” he hissed, grey eyes narrowed. “Tom is better than _any_ of us, and no fucking upstart could even _hope_ to come close to that!”

At this, the door was slid open and there was Tom Riddle, in all his dark glory. His eyes were narrowed, and the waves of power rolling off of him were almost tangible. His eyes swept the compartment, taking in the guilty looks shared by everyone except for Lestrange. Based on the last few sentences, he could guess well enough what the topic had been.

“So,” he drawled in a deceivingly calm voice, “you believed that talking about myself and James would be _wise_ in my absence?”

The silence only deepened, and even Lestrange started to look guilty. He knew the rule Tom had on gossiping about him. The future Dark Lord’s secrets were his own, and it wasn’t their place to talk about them or try to discover them. Meanwhile, Tom just stood there, waiting for someone to answer him. He rarely asked rhetorical questions around his followers.

Nate looked his leader in the eyes for a second before bowing his head in submission, and took a breath to explain. “I admit we were talking about you and James. We weren’t sure why you were so interested in him, and we discussed theories.”

Tom looked blankly around again, his face and voice devoid of emotion. “And what, pray tell, were these theories you came up with? I’m sure there’s a good reason for Alexander to be shouting to the heavens about how wonderful I am.”

Nate glanced to Druella before answering. “Some of them were about his ideals, some just about how you decided to investigate the new student. Abraxas thought that because he was a good-looking boy, you’d use him for a while before throwing him away,” he explained, carefully keeping a blank mask. “I... I insinuated that you may be treating him like... an equal.” He whispered the last words so quietly that Tom barely caught them.

“Is that really what you all think?” he questioned blankly, delaying his reaction to those final words the seventh year whispered fearfully. In truth, Tom still wasn’t sure what James was to him. He certainly wasn’t what Abraxas had guessed. Did he really treat the new teen that more respectfully, that Nathaniel would believe something like that? _Was_ he treating the green-eyed boy like his equal?  
    There was a bunch of nods and “yes, my Lord”s across the compartment. Tom smirked in satisfaction. He had worked for the position he had in Slytherin house, and the only reason he managed to achieve it was his willingness to be absolutely ruthless and yet unnaturally charming depending on the situation. He had socially ripped people apart for going against him, and even now he wouldn’t hesitate to do it to one of his Knights. Not to mention that he wouldn’t mind physically ripping them apart, either.

Tom turned slightly and stepped aside, revealing the raven-haired teen in question. His eyes were burning with rage, and his face was set in a cold glare. It made him satisfied to see the little sixth year so riled up, quite a difference from how he was in the prefects’ compartment during their short talk.

“You all,” he hissed, “are _idiots._ I haven’t been here long, but I have to say, Abraxas, I’ve never been more _insulted_ than when I heard what you said about me. Still, apparently Riddle has rules about these things? Why in the world did you think it was a good idea to break them when he’s so obviously your leader?”

Abraxas, Lestrange, and Nathaniel flinched in turn, but James wasn’t done yet.

“How Tom Riddle treats me, the new student who isn’t used to going to a school with other people and just _might_ be uncomfortable away from home, isn’t any of your damn concern, alright? I get that you’re his friends, or allies, or whatever,” he snarled, “but that does _not_ give you the right to nose your way into my life, or _his_. So sod off!”

Said person was grinning at his new companion. “That was a brilliant lecture, Raven,” he whispered to the teen, slipping in a casual nickname. It fit the boy, really. He just didn’t know how much it actually did, with James’ (or Harry’s, in this case) love of flying unknown to him.

He received a _very_ Slytherin smirk in response, even as the use of the nickname made itself known in his mind. “Why don’t we get changed into our school robes, everyone? I’m sure we’ll arrive at school soon.”


	6. Chapter 6

Once James got off the train, he searched for a teacher or groundskeeper or  _ someone _ who could tell him where to go. The headmaster hadn’t told him where to go after the train, only that he would be sorted after the first years were.

He caught a glimpse of an adult further down the path, holding up a lantern like Hagrid had done for the first years in his own time. He was obviously older than the seventh years, but not all  _ that _ much older. He had a few scars and a burn on his hand. Vaguely, he reminded James of Professor Lupin in that way, or maybe Charlie Weasley.

Then, the familiar call was shouted. “First years, this way! Follow me, please!”

James wandered over to the Professor, unaware of the small group following him. He smiled faintly, nodding in greeting. The man looked him over, and noticed the lack of a House crest on his uniform and colors on his plain black tie.

“Are you the new student?” he asked cautiously. 

The small teen nodded. “James Granford, Professor. I wrote with the Headmaster, but he didn’t tell me anything about where to go except that I’d be sorted after the first years. Did he tell you anything?”

“I’m Professor Kettleburn,” he greeted, offering a hand. “Headmaster Dippet mentioned you’d be coming, yes, but he didn’t leave me any instructions on where to take you. I suppose you could ride in the boats with myself and the first years...”

At this point, Tom stepped forward, a ‘model student’ smile on his face. “That isn’t really necessary, Professor. I’m sure it would be better if James was escorted by his peers up to the castle, wouldn’t you say?” He stopped James from moving further away with a delicate grip on the boy’s shoulder.

The young professor looked at him thoughtfully. “I can’t really risk getting in trouble with my employer, Mr. Riddle... but I doubt he’d protest to  _ you _ escorting the new student, as favored as you are by the Headmaster. As long as none of the blame lies with me, I’m already on probation again.”

“Of course, Professor Kettleburn,” Tom smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And with that, James was swept away by the Slytherin group over to the carriages. 

James was familiar with the existence of Thestrals. His first time seeing them had been in the beginning of his fifth year, which was exactly one year ago. He had been unnerved, initially, at the sight of the batlike equines and their dead, milky eyes. The skeletal appearance reminded him of himself before first year, with barely enough muscle to avoid being blown over by a gust of wind. It was different now, but not by much.

He wondered what Tom would think about his ability to see the Thestrals. They were only able to be seen by those who had seen death, and were considered bad omens by most of the wizarding world. James even wondered briefly if  _ Tom _ could see the Thestrals. If Tom had killed by that point in his life. It didn’t seem to match up with his knowledge of the Chamber of Secrets, because Tom’s memory had shown him that it was opened near the tail-end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. That meant that Myrtle was still alive... if he wanted to, he could save her. It would be easy enough, but what repercussions would it have on his future? If Tom found out...

Cutting short that line of thought, he approached one of the great skeletal steeds, gently laying a hand on its nose. They weren’t scary, far from it. There was a gentleness there that he had come to associate with the undead creatures he had seen. Death was peaceful for them, it only pained the living. Sometimes, he wondered what it’d be like to be dead, with his parents and Sirius, able to apologize to Cedric.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. James jumped a couple inches, flinching badly, and spun around to see who wanted his attention. He was standing face to face with Abraxas Malfoy, the low light illuminating his white-blond hair. The other boy’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“What are you doing?” he sneered quietly. James noticed the curious glances of the boys already in the carriage. It was clear none of them, even Tom, could see the Thestrals. Interesting, indeed. None of these Slytherins had witnessed death yet, by their own hand or another’s.

“Petting the Thestral,” he replied absently, turning back to the creature that was eyeing him with interest. It bumped its nose against his cheek, rubbing gently, trying to convey a kind of comfort. The small teen smiled sadly at the intelligent creature.

Tom had walked over to them, observing the interaction between an invisible thing and his new charge. “Thestrals can only be seen by those who’ve seen death, correct?” he wondered allowed, not really looking for confirmation.

James gave it anyway. “Yeah, you’re right. Did you know that Hogwarts has the only trained herd in Britain? They’re really not death omens. Such intelligent and gentle creatures as they are, they’re very curious,” he babbled, distracted.

The charismatic teen reached a hand out cautiously, glancing over to James for some assistance. The small teen knew what Tom had in mind, and moved the Slytherin’s hand to the bat-like horse’s nose, delicately pressing his own hand over the other as a guide.

Tom’s dark eyes glittered with excitement. Though he couldn’t see the Thestral, it was enough to be able to touch it and feel its power. There was something about the animal that felt... familiar. It was similar to the Chamber’s magic, almost, and tainted with the chill of death. He felt the Chamber of Secrets held more than he initially discovered, with this sense of power from a magical creature borne of death.

He wondered absentmindedly who James had seen die.

James glanced at the tables nervously. It was clear that the students held quite a bit of interest at the thought of a mystery transfer-in, especially with the war being waged between the muggles and how current Dark Lord was attempting world domination. Some of them were even wary of his presence, and rightfully so. He would be, too, if he was one of them.

Now, standing before the entire school, teachers and all, he felt another wave of panic. There was the threat of Dumbledore meddling further in his life. Then there was the odd situation with Tom, and the handsome Slytherin prefect’s... interesting... reaction to his weight and behavior. He didn’t really understand  _ why _ Tom Riddle would bother with him, it wasn’t something he had thought likely, based on everything he knew of the man. Riddle was supposed to care only about himself and be obsessed with power. If he held true to form, he was only manipulating the small teen into relaxing around him.

Somehow, James  _ did _ enjoy Tom’s company. It was clear that the mature teenager had power over his allies, and definitely punished them for mistakes and disobedience, but Tom had been polite enough to him, and was certainly an interesting person to talk to. James seemed drawn to each the tall, dark-haired boy.

Perching carefully on the small stool, which wasn’t actually that small for him, James glanced up at the younger Professor Dumbledore as the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. His diminutive size did not, thankfully, allow the hat to slip down past his ears, though it was a close thing. He hadn’t grown that much since first year.

_ “Oh,  _ that’s _ interesting,” _ a voice whispered in his mind.  _ “I see I’ve sorted you before. But what’s this? A time-traveler?” _

James drew in a sharp breath.  _ “Please, don’t tell anyone!” _

There was a quiet chuckle.  _ “Relax, I am honor-bound to keep whatever I glean from the students’ minds secret. But your life  _ has _ been interesting, hasn’t it, Mr. Potter? I believe you would have been happier if you’d taken my advice, but then again, Dumbledore does seem to have you set in his sights.” _

_ “Put me where you think I should go,”  _ he replied, resigned to whatever fate brought him this time around.  _ “I won’t argue with your decision. It’s not like I’m known in this time, anyway. Maybe I can finally be myself.” _

_ “A worthy ambition, Mr. Potter. In fact, that house would still fit you well, perhaps even better than before. A mask is a powerful thing, Harry, and having one was important for your survival. No one will fault you for self-preservation, especially in light of the things you’ve suffered at your relatives’ hands.” _

James stiffened, paling a little. The sorting was taking longer than he had expected, and now Dumbledore seemed more interested in the ‘new student’. He couldn’t let that man decide his fate again! He  _ wouldn’t _ let that happen!

_ “Calm down. I’ve decided,”  _  the Hat pressed.  _ “A word of caution, though. Tom Riddle is a good person for you to be around, even with his future revealed to me. That boy will do you well, Mr. Potter, he is a worthy ally, especially if you wish to avoid the old coot in the future.” _

_ “Thank you, I’ll take that to heart,”  _ he replied more calmly than he felt.

_ “You really will do well in  _ **_SLYTHERIN!_ ** _ ”  _ the Hat stated, shouting his choice to the Hall before him. James looked around as he removed the hat from his head, catching the reactions of several people. 

Gryffindor Table had the most scowling or glaring faces, and he could feel the animosity rolling off in waves. There were a few people who weren’t glaring at him, but they seemed disinterested anyway. Over at Hufflepuff, most of the older students were politely clapping, with one or two wary looks. James noticed a young Rubeus Hagrid beaming at him and the other new students. He bet his House didn’t help the majority of students’ suspicions be eased. Ravenclaw was much the same, with only a little more enthusiastic clapping here and there. The Eagles  _ did _ tend to get along the best with the Snakes.

Then there was Slytherin. With Tom’s lead, the entire table was clapping for him, minus a few of the newly-sorted first years. It was actually heartwarming, being wanted for who he was, even if it was only Riddle’s reaction that led the others. Nathaniel was grinning, along with his younger sister Druella. He knew, without a doubt, that he had at least two friends there. Abraxas seemed neutral, his blank face not giving anything away. Some of the other members were watching him with interest clearly brought on by Riddle’s immediate response. When James walked confidently over to the table, a spot was cleared next to the charismatic teen with the flick of a wrist and a glance.

“I had a feeling you would be in this House. Welcome to Slytherin, James,” Tom greeted calmly, an amused smirk played across his lips. He had caught the jealous glare Lestrange and Avery shot the green-eyed teen when a space was made for him.

James smiled warmly back. “Thank you, Tom. I’m glad you approve, I’d hate to disappoint a new friend.” He grinned for a second as he said, “Though the hat  _ did _ think of putting me in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.”

Riddle smirked at him. “I, for one, would be surprised. You don’t strike me as the know-it-all type, Granford,” he teased, eyes dancing with amusement. “Besides, it was probably that temper of yours that made the House of imbeciles a faint possibility.”

“You would know, would you?” James drawled, still grinning slyly. 

Abraxas looked scandalized, and some of the other students in their immediate vicinity paled dramatically. The dark haired teen had to wonder what the Heir of Slytherin had done to get them so afraid of making a joke at his expense.

Tom simply shook his head, smirking slightly, as the food appeared. “I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about. Indeed, I believe we will get along very well this year, James. Your wit is refreshing,” he stated quietly, so only those a seat or two away could hear. “Now eat, as much as you can manage.”

He started subtly placing small amounts of light foods near the other teen’s place, nothing heavy or rich to avoid upsetting his new charge’s stomach. Subtlety  _ was _ a Slytherin trait, after all, and it wouldn’t do to show  _ too _ much favoritism to the new student.

A few of the others looked as if they were reassessing him, and noticed a few glances at his skinny figure and sparse plate as he ate as much as he could manage. Tom had been wise enough not to comment on his pathetic appetite. He was struggling to finish it by the time dessert appeared, and he was sad about not being able to fit some treacle tart in. Only Tom, Abraxas, and Nathaniel noticed him wrap up a piece in a napkin for later.

Feeling fuller than he had been in a long time at the end of the feast, James smiled down at his lap wondering how his perception on life had changed so much in a little over a week. Now he was a Slytherin, eating with a future Dark Lord and his followers without batting an eyelash. If someone told him this was going to happen, the teenager would’ve checked them into St. Mungo’s to get their head checked by Mind Healers.

The twists of Fate were certainly using the Potter luck to their full advantage.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Professor Slughorn carefully observed his new snakes with a curious gleam in his eye, trying to appraise them right off the bat. He was known for his collection of students. Only taking the best of the best, the sly man amassed vital contacts throughout the wizarding world, always able to call in a favor from one or another of his ex-pupils. One of his current favorites was the sixth year Slytherin prefect, Tom Riddle. That boy was simply brilliant, and charming beyond all reason, with wit and poise to help him in pureblood circles.

The transfer student, James Granford, had ended up in his House. The boy didn’t seem like much at first glance, but he drew people’s attention without effort, even if he was just sitting and eating his meager dinner. The amount of food the sixth year ate made him a bit concerned for the boy. It wasn’t healthy to eat so little, but perhaps it was just nerves.

Horace instantly compared him to Tom in his mind, and surprisingly enough, didn’t find the boy lacking in appearance or grace. He was definitely smaller. That much was obvious, and he had more feminine features, but the aristocratic air around him was the same. Considering Tom was an orphan, and this boy was apparently orphaned, too, he was pleased with the good manners both showed at the Welcoming Feast.

The boy was an instant hit with the other students at Slytherin table, though that might have just been Tom’s influence. He ate less than a bird, small things that didn’t contain much fat or grease, and again, that worried Horace. He was still drawing attention from the other tables, though, even the Gryffindors were casting glances at the ‘mysterious new student’ among his snakes. It was clear that he would go far in life, by that charisma alone. 

James Granford had made it onto his list.

  
  


After dinner, James was led down to the dungeons by the group he met on the train. Druella was clinging to his arm and pointing out paintings and tapestries worthy of note, giving him lessons in the castle’s history as they walked down the long corridors. Nathaniel was off with some friends, celebrating his last year at Hogwarts, and Alexander decided he couldn’t stand to be in the presence of James, but everyone else was present, with a few additions.

Orion and Cygnus Black had joined them, and tailing behind their group a ways was the trio of Alphard Black, Winky Crockett, and Vincent Greengrass. Cygnus seemed a tad jealous of James for having Druella hanging off him, but Edward Nott discreetly explained that the new student was gay and the Rosier sibling knew that. It seemed Cygnus was taking the marriage contract between the two to heart.

Abraxas slowed his pace a little, falling out of pace with Tom and Jerod, and slipped back to speak with Cygnus, Edward, and Louis. He felt that the new Slytherin needed to be discussed by the group, hopefully in their leader’s absence. 

“Nott, Mulciber, Black,” he whispered, “meet me in the empty potions classroom two halls down from the common room. We’ve got some things to discuss, and I want you three to be there for it. Alexander and Jerod already know.”

Louis eyed him apprehensively. “What about Tom?” He didn’t want to get into more trouble than they were already in for talking about their lord without his permission. They were in dangerous waters, and it wasn’t even the second day.

Abraxas shook his head. “I’m not planning on talking about our Lord. One warning is plenty for me, thank you. We need to figure out what to do about Granford. It’s odd, there’s something off about the boy.”

The brown-haired boy shrugged, unsure. He replied, “I’ll come if I won’t be missed. Some of the younger students will probably want me to charm their hair or nails again, I’ve done it since third year, I’m not about to stop now.”

The aristocratic blond nodded and sped up to return to his position, aware that it was as much of an answer as he’d get. Louis appeared not to mind the new boy’s presence, and his mild-mannered personality allowed the Charms expert to get along well with most people. He was laid back, more so than even Nate. Though Abraxas could appreciate it at some times, the teen’s go-with-the-flow attitude put him off at others.

All he could think about as they trekked to the common room was how this year had already become more interesting than most.

  
  


After the last person shuffled in, Alexander carefully warded the door with all manner of locking and privacy spells. He and Abraxas agreed not to take any risks with this meeting. It was dangerous enough just gathering the Knights of Walpurgis without Riddle’s presence, and if they were discovered, it would mean plenty of pain.

“Brax, what’s up?” Nathaniel questioned. He had been told to come, but wasn’t given a reason as to  _ why _ they were having an impromptu gathering.

Abraxas situated himself in his usual place, at the right side of the head of the table. Just because Tom wasn’t there didn’t mean they were going to take his place. The charismatic teen had them well trained. 

“Alexander and I felt the need to discuss the situation with Granford in relative privacy. I want to hear your opinions on him, his actions, his beliefs, and his words. There’s something  _ wrong _ with the whole thing, and I can’t put my finger on it,” he explained anxiously.

Alex sneered. “That, and he’s getting to close to our lord. Something must be done, he’s trying to change our lord’s views by drawing his interest.”

“I agree,” Jerod drawled, adding his own voice to the mix. “As a pureblood and an Avery, I cannot stand to watch the Heir become corrupted by that upstart. We must fix this, somehow, and do it soon.”

Nate shook his head. “Malfoy, have you ever considered  _ why _ you feel so threatened by the new kid? I think you all are just getting jealous of another person becoming so friendly with our lord. There’s reasons Tom’s so interested in him, too.”

Louis smiled faintly. “He’s very similar to Tom. His magic is, and the way he holds himself when talking to someone. The two even have similar colouring.”

“They’re  _ nothing alike! _ ” Alex snarled, enraged. He drew his wand on Mulciber. “Take that  _ back _ , you filthy bastard!”

Cygnus decided to step in before things got out of hand, and cast a murmured “ _ petrificus totalus”  _ at the angry sixth year. “Lestrange, control yourself. Your behavior is hardly befitting one of your status. Mulciber has a valid point, so does Rosier.”

Abraxas nodded slowly, blank faced and mind whirring. “Everyone in the compartment on the train felt his magic flare. Louis was right about that, their magic  _ is _ similar. Granford strikes me as meek, though, like he doesn’t want to be noticed. Our lord is the opposite. He simply  _ commands _ attention, as easily as breathing.”

Edward sighed. “True enough. I get the feeling that Granford doesn’t like extra attention. He  _ was _ homeschooled up to this point, and it was thought that his family line died out. He was probably raised in a very solitary environment.”

“I think we should get to know him a little more,” Nate suggested. “My sister probably has a ton of information already, she’s the type to ask a lot of personal questions. We can decide what to do at a later date, when we know more about him.”

Edward smiled at the seventh year. “It’s a good plan. What I want to know, though, is why people can’t seem to stop looking at him. Even the Gryffindors were doing it at the Feast, and I don’t think it was intentional.”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s his presence, his charisma,” Louis stated softly. “I bet Professor Slughorn will try to collect him, too.”

All of them looked a little uncomfortable at the thought. Professor Slughorn, while meaning well enough, tended to be a little too enthusiastic for the majority of people he was interested in obtaining as contacts. He  _ did _ have his uses, though, and like any true Slytherin, Tom was one of those who willingly put up with the man in order to make the best of those resources.

Abraxas let out a long, resigned sigh. “Alright, we’ll go with Nathaniel’s suggestion. We’ll reconvene in... two weeks?” He glanced around at the others, receiving affirmative nods from each of the other boys at the table. 

  
  


Tom watched without comment as Abraxas and Alexander left the common room, followed by several other members of his Knights. He was seated on the three-person sofa in front of the fireplace, with James next to him and Druella on an armchair off to the side, leaning over to talk to the little teen. She hadn’t stopped chattering about the school and classes since they’d left the Great Hall. It was annoying, but James could do with the background and social dynamics she could provide for him. It wouldn’t do for their newest snake to embarrass himself in public, would it? So, he let it pass, and allowed dear Druella to continue her stream of nearly-incoherent babble.

It seemed, though, that James had also noticed the others leaving the common room amidst the confusion of first years getting settled and the seventh years’ partying breaking out into the shared space. His eyes followed the students he’d met on the train as they left in pairs and trios, looking mildly pensive.

He turned to Tom, a slight frown on his face. “It looks like your... allies are going off on their own again,” he commented casually. “Are they allowed to do that?”

Tom snorted quietly in amusement. “I’m not their keeper, they may do what they like. More than likely, they’re going to discuss you or myself, and wish to do so in secret. Don’t dwell on it, James. If it requires me to be concerned, then I will definitely be made aware of the situation by either Nathaniel or Abraxas.”

“So you  _ do _ have them well-trained.” James glanced at Druella, who had stopped talking when his attention turned to Tom. “Thank you for the useful information, Druella, I think it’ll be very helpful here. It’s not like I want to make a fool of myself, right?”

“Of course, James! It’s no trouble,” she replied happily.

Tom tapped him on the shoulder, an idea forming in his mind. When he watched the professors earlier at dinner, several of them seemed quite intrigued by the newest student, most notably their own Head of House. It brought to mind the situation regarding rooming and James’ class schedule.

“We should go speak with Professor Slughorn; he’s our Head of House.” The aristocratic boy nodded amiably to the blonde girl before lightly tugging James to his feet. Tom was satisfied to notice that the other boy followed him without prompting.

James was going over the day in his head as he followed the powerful young man. There was so much to think about, and the night wasn’t over with yet. When Tom mentioned their Head of House, the same things came to mind. A class schedule would be awkward to arrange, given the fact that he had no OWLs in this time period, and he desperately wanted to drop Divination for a more useful course, like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes.

He wondered if they would give him the benefit of the doubt with classes. Now, with his mental abilities at their full potential, he could certainly keep up with harder work, and maybe even catch up in a new class. His memory retention was amazing compared to what it had been in the past. He cursed Dumbledore mentally for ever putting those blocks on him.

The goblins had proven to be a wonderful ally in this whole debacle, and he counted his blessings that they had methods to prove his heritage  _ and _ complete customer confidentiality. They would bow to no wizard looking for information, even the Minister of Magic. It was a huge relief to James that he had their willing assistance. Plus, a bit of gold never hurt to smooth things over in the long run. They were well compensated for their services.

So now, walking to his Head of House’s office to discuss class schedules, mind full of new information he had picked up over his stay in Diagon Alley with a plethora of books and a custom wand free of the Trace, he felt confident being himself, in his new identity. There were no masks he was required to hide behind for safety. No one knew him, and he had no reputation to live up to. He was freer than he had been in a long time.

  
  


Tom knocked softly on the door, fully aware that Professor Slughorn had a ward up to alert him to the presence of others. As the man had just finished lecturing the first year students in his House on the expectations and rules set for Slytherin students, he was still fully dressed and hadn’t yet begun his nightly routine.

“Professor, is this a good time? James wished to discuss his rooming and classes with his Head of House, hopefully before schedules were handed out,” Tom greeted politely, allowing one of his charming smiles to shine for the man.

He grinned in return, and inspected James. “It’s no trouble, my boy, no trouble at all! I hadn’t even begun getting ready for bed, you caught me at a good time, Tom.” He pulled the door open more and stood aside, allowing the two teenagers entrance to his rooms. 

James flinched slightly at the ‘boy’ comment, the word reminding him too much of the two people he currently hated most in the world. Vernon Dursley and Albus Dumbledore, one always enraged and dissatisfied, the other with his Merlin-be-damned, twinkling blue eyes and condescending, grandfatherly façade. And, as always, the small movement did not go unnoticed by the manipulative prefect standing beside him.

“Well, Mr. Granford, how can I help you? Do you know what classes you wish to take, or have OWLs in?” Slughorn continued, unaware of the small teen’s discomfort. 

James smiled shyly, looking up at the professor. “I don’t have any OWLs yet, I wasn’t able to take the tests before my... parents... passed away. I’d like to take all of the core classes, though, and add in either Ancient Runes or Arithmancy.”

“Why not both?” the man asked. “You  _ do _ have two or three elective spots.”

“Well,” the raven haired teen replied, “it’s just that I want to take Care of Magical Creatures, too. I enjoy spending time around animals, magical or otherwise. I don’t think I could handle three electives, so I have to choose.”

Tom stepped forward, and decided to offer some advice. “You seemed interested in warding and magical crafts. While Arithmancy is useful for both, Ancient Runes is crucial to creating wards and devices that work. I’d suggest you take Runes for now, and study Arithmancy on the side if you have time.”

James nodded slowly, eyes glazed as he thought about the possibilities available to him. He could become something other than an auror, which was always the expected profession of Harry James Potter, and probably would have been even if he  _ wasn’t _ the Boy-Who-Lived. James Potter and Sirius Black were both great aurors, apparently. He could, again, choose something unique to himself.

“I think I’ll take Ancient Runes, then. Warding has actually been very interesting to me for a long time, I’d like to learn more about it. Do you think it’s a viable career option? Warding, I mean. That might be what I want to do...” he trailed off, still thinking of his options.

Professor Slughorn was very pleased with the young man’s choices. Warding, while incredibly useful, especially during war time, wasn’t very popular as a future career option. Most students he’d collected ended up in Quidditch or high up in the Ministry. It’d be good to gain a little variety in contacts, certainly.

“It certainly is, my boy!” he exclaimed cheerfully. This time, though, he didn’t miss the tiny flinch at his words. Curious, he decided to file that away for later pondering. “In fact, as it is so unpopular a career choice, yet so vital, the salaries tend to be very high. Many people can’t even put up a minor privacy ward, my boy.”

There it was again, that flinching reaction. Professor Slughorn wasn’t stupid. He knew some of his snakes were abused, it was a simple fact that Slytherin tended to get the most of that group. The children developed a sense of self-preservation early on in life because they  _ had _ to, developed a sense of cunning in order to simply survive. Therefore, he wasn’t unfamiliar with children whose stories were dark enough to cause many to shudder in fear and disgust. The man just wasn’t as observant as some of his students, and tended to miss the first signs.

Like the flinching. Twice now, Granford had reacted when he said the words ‘my boy’, and he could guess without much effort as to the trigger word. In fact, he had a few students at the time who reacted badly to ‘boy’. It’s why he had started to call them ‘child’ or ‘son’, instead.

So, Horace decided to act on the hunch. “Mr. Granford, is there something you aren’t telling me? About your home situation, perhaps?”

He watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across the petite teen’s face. Fear, shock, disbelief, and suspicion were some of them. He noticed how Tom stepped closer, almost protectively, and put his hand on the boy’s arm. There was a faint tremor to James’ hands as he clenched them nervously.

“No, sir,” Tom answered for him. “We’ve got everything under control.”

With that, the two teens bid their professor a good evening and left the room. Horace only sighed and went about his nightly routine, confident that his favorite student would take care of the frightened new one. The only thing that struck him as odd was that Tom hadn’t really shown initiative in those situations more than a polite comforting pat or asking a few questions to calm a student down. He had never acted protectively, before. The man was pleased his favorite student was taking a more active interest in his schoolmates, even if it was only one person.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Offensive language/slurs in this chapter. Thank you for reading, as always.

James followed Tom back to the common room, making note of the passages they used to get there. He hoped silently that he wouldn’t get lost too often in the dungeons, they were large and cold, extensive in the extreme. He hadn’t spent much time down there when he was in Gryffindor. It wasn’t the lions’ territory, and rumors told of bad things that happened to the courageous House if they ventured into the snake pit for anything other than the preset lessons on their schedules.

The black-haired teen’s opinion on his new common room was confused, at best. He knew the dungeons were underneath the lake, but he hadn’t honestly expected there to be large windows looking out into the murky green depths of the Black Lake. Earlier, he had noticed a merperson swim by, and a couple of Grindylows were playing in the light from the Slytherin dorms. It wasn’t the charmed windows or dark, empty walls he had expected from them. Even his previous foray into the House of Slytherin back in second year hadn’t afforded him and Ron much chance to look around. They were to nervous to take in the surroundings.

There were glowing orbs hanging down from the ceiling, and the couches were all in black and dark green, with a dark mahogany wood and silver accents to complement the cloth and soft cushions. It was all very elegant, and it exuded an aristocratic air that James had come to relate to the House. Draco Malfoy had certainly been a fair example of the Old Money that had passed through Hogwarts for generations.

James wondered where they’d put him. Surely, all the rooms were full by now, he was one of the sixth years.  _ “I hope they don’t put me with Lestrange or Malfoy,” _ he thought,  _ “they don’t seem to like me much. It’d just be asking for trouble.” _

Deciding to ask Tom, he fell in step with the prefect. “Where will I be sleeping? Aren’t your dorms full already?” 

He thought how everyone in Gryffindor slept in the same room in a year level and gender. For some reason, it didn’t seem like Slytherin would make five boys sleep in the same room. Self-preservation and cunning  _ were _ some of the House’s traits. It wouldn’t do to have a group of students who were possibly at odds with each other sleeping together when the methods they’d employ were ruthless at best, and downright cruel at worst.

“With me, if that’s alright,” Tom answered absently. “We have two students to a room after fourth year, but since our year has an odd number of boys, I’ve had my own room since last year. It’s because of the OWLs and NEWTs, so we can study more easily.”

James ‘hmm’ed. “Clever. Slytherin certainly didn’t strike me as the type of place where five boys are forced to share rooms. Everything seems very high class, luxurious.”

The taller boy nodded smugly, a smirk appearing, flashing across his face before his mask fell back into place. “Yes, I’ve heard of the other Houses’ living arrangements. Poor little lions, though, it must be terrible to share like that for all seven years of your education. At least Ravenclaw only has three to a room, mainly for study groups.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like Hufflepuff would have an issue with it, though. They give off an easygoing vibe, y’know?” The emerald-eyed boy glanced at the paintings on the walls. Quite a few of them had snakes that hissed greetings to Tom as they strolled past.

Tom silently observed the newest boy’s reaction to the greetings from his reptilian allies on the walls. James didn’t seem unnerved by the language of snakes, he could even go so far as to say the boy looked at ease in the dark corridor. He was certainly unlike most first years who couldn’t relax away from the daylight and airy freedom they were used to.

Deciding to comment about his perceptions, Tom drawled, “Looks like you’ll be perfectly comfortable down here in the Slytherin dorms. Enjoy dark places, do you?” 

James smiled slightly as he continued taking in his surroundings. “I spent a good chunk of my life in a small, dark space. There’s only two ways that could end; me being claustrophobic or enjoying the quiet safety of the place.”

Tom absorbed the information for later pondering and turned to a large portrait of a witch who resembled someone from the Black family. He hissed a quick password and it swung open, and James was vaguely amused to hear the password was  _ ‘Emrys’ _ . It referred to Merlin, and as a name, meant ‘immortal’. It was so very  _ Tom _ that he almost chuckled.

“I’ll have to reset the password in English later, but this is the entrance to our rooms. We have a sitting room, separate bedrooms, and a shared bathroom between them. I hope that doesn’t bother you?” the prefect explained casually, probing for more information. Just because James had admitted to being gay didn’t mean he was quite comfortable sharing rooms with another person.

“What, a shared bathroom? Why would it?” the small, raven-haired teen questioned curiously. “Families share all the time, and at least I only have to share with one other person who, if I may be so bold, is rapidly becoming a friend.”

Tom nodded, outwardly stoic as ever, but internally surprised. He hadn’t expected the other boy to accept him so easily. It was almost amusing how naϊve the new Slytherin sixth year was. You just didn’t trust others that quickly in the House of the Snake. It would be interesting to see just how far the small sixth year would allow him to take it, before becoming obviously uncomfortable.

“So,” James continued, playing the ‘new student’, “which room is mine?”

“The right one. If you left anything on the train, like a trunk or luggage, it will be there. The house elves here are very good about students’ items. They have a very efficient system, even in the kitchens, where it seems chaotic at a glance. I could show you, tomorrow, if you’d like.”

James grinned, pulling a shrunken trunk out of his pocket. “Never travel without all your things, if you can avoid it. One of my... tutors had this thing about ‘constant vigilance’. I’m afraid to say I’m a bit paranoid, but no more so than the next person, probably.”

He flashed a final friendly smile at Tom and strolled over to investigate his room. It  _ had _ been a long day, and he was tired as hell! Who knew being a transfer student could be so exhausting? He was pleased to see a large, four-poster bed with thick curtains welcoming and empty. The smooth, soft covers beckoned, and it wasn’t long before he was relaxing in the quiet peace of his private dorm room.

  
  


Tom stripped down and slipped under the smooth covers, relishing in the luxury of his true home after spending yet another summer in that hellhole called an orphanage. The fact that he was forced to return there every year until he came of age ruffled him greatly, straining his temper and self-control to nearly breaking point. It was a blessing that the Ministry couldn’t pick up the subtle wandless magic that had long been his most versatile tool.

He was beyond glad that his birthday was during the school year. Come January, it would be completely within his rights to never,  _ ever _ return to that blasted hovel he had been left at all those years ago. He had plenty of allies offering to shelter him and host him in there homes. He had even spent time over the Yule holidays with the Malfoy and Rosier families in the past. After all, he  _ was _ the Heir of Slytherin, and was able to use Parseltongue to prove it. Any major Dark family respected him, both because of his bloodline and because of his obvious power. This gave way to his future plans. For those who had wronged him in the past, for the wizards and witches who deserved a muggle-free environment, and for anyone he deemed worthy, Tom had developed plans to take care of everything.

People he deemed worthy. That brought his mind to a halt, drawing in stray thoughts and directing them towards the people he had seen and spoken with throughout the day. The Rosier siblings, Abraxas Malfoy, Alexander Lestrange, Edward Nott, Louis Mulciber, those were the people whom he had known for years and accepted him as their leader. Tom Riddle, Heir of Slytherin, their future Lord. He had already vowed to himself to reward them for their loyalty and competence, as they deserved no less for their time in his service.

_ That _ brought his thoughts around to James Granford, the new student. He was small, almost comically so, attractive with his vivid green eyes and longish black hair, tousled in a way that suggested it was untameable, even at the length it was. His mannerism hinted at someone who was used to serving others, and yet was constantly the center of attention. James was soft-spoken and witty, and Tom found the other boy’s sarcastic comments to be very humorous at times. One could go so far as to say he had a way with sass, and that he was full of snark. He was also intelligent enough to hold a decent conversation, which was immensely relieving to the Slytherin prefect.

_ “James Granford is... ideal for my plans,” _ Tom pondered silently.  _ “He already sees me as a  _ friend _ , potential or not, he’s a Lord of a family even at his young age, and I can most likely relate to his experiences on a deeper level than others. Besides that, he’s  _ powerful _ enough to draw my attention without active intent.” _

Tossing up a proximity ward and silencing charm, he ran a comb through his short hair and placed his wand carefully within reach. It wouldn’t do to become lazy, especially in the Snake Den. Tom’s first night back at Hogwarts ended with a contented smirk and one last possessive thought of:  _ “James Granford is mine.” _

  
  


James stretched out across the wide bed, ridding himself of the cricks and cramps in his back and shoulders from the train ride. The silky covers were unbelievably soft and warm under his calloused fingers, and it was even better than his four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. Here, he didn’t have to worry about four other boys in the room waking to his nightmares. Sometimes, his shouting was loud enough that it broke the silencing barrier he’d put up before falling asleep.

The day had been so full. Never in a million years had he expected to end up in a train compartment with Tom Marvolo Riddle, future Dark Lord and Heir of Slytherin. If someone had told him that the raven-haired teen would get along so well with a young Lord Voldemort, James would have happily shipped them off to St. Mungo’s for treatment. He was thinking that a lot, lately. The facts remained, though, that not only did he get along with the taller boy, but he preferred Tom’s company to many of his other acquaintances back home.

Then, Tom decided to introduce James to his allies in Slytherin. James was sure that he had just met the future first generation of Death Eaters, but at that moment in time, they were just students at Hogwarts, innocent of any future crimes. The kindness and forgiveness that Harry Potter was known for at school surfaced, and he couldn’t  _ not _ give them a chance.

One thing that stuck with him was the newly self-imposed rule to  _ never, ever, ever _ play Truth or Dare with Slytherins again. If a Slytherin asked you to play, they  _ wanted _ something from you, be it information or something you wouldn’t normally be willing to do. Slytherins almost  _ never _ did something without personal gain or a very good reason. James had the feeling that it would be very easy to trick a Gryffindor into playing with a Slytherin. A pity. 

It was unnerving and panic-inducing to admit his sexuality. After the disaster of fifth year with Cho, and realizing he wasn’t actually attracted to her or Ginny or really any of the other girls, but guys looked pretty damn good, it took a few months for the denial to wear off. James was pretty sure Hermione figured it out before he did, too, but she never said anything, so he wasn’t exactly  _ worried _ about her reaction.

He would forever be grateful to Fred Weasley for being a wonderful friend open to his need to experiment. They never went further than blowjobs, but it was more than enough for the green-eyed boy to realize that  _ yes _ , he was definitely gay, and  _ no _ , he wasn’t going to deny it any longer. Aside from a passing comment that George wouldn’t care, James had never been told what the wizarding world’s view on homosexuality was, though. He knew well enough what the muggles’ views were. Dudley’s taunting that his ‘boyfriend’ Cedric and him were going to hell was plenty an indicator, and Vernon had given him a few good punches after overhearing his son call the  _ freak _ a  _ fag _ . 

So, overall, it was understandable for him to be afraid of revealing that choice bit of info about himself. Druella’s reassuring comment had calmed him down enough to continue with the game. It had continued to be fun, until Tom decided that it was time for them to have a discussion about several things, mainly  _ why _ James flinched at sudden movements and his fear of admitting his sexuality.

That had been emotionally draining.

James’ thoughts turned away from the day’s events and more towards what he had discovered with the goblins’ help when he first arrived in 1942. The blocks he had on his best abilities, apparently.  _ Half _ of his magic had been blocked, and not only that, but while he was living with the Dursleys! Only a select number of people had known where he was, and James expected that it required someone powerful to block another person’s magic, which left only one possible candidate. Dumbledore.

Every year, Harry Potter was dragged into some life-threatening situation. Every year, he came out the worse for wear, but alive. First year, the traps that were supposedly able to protect the Philosopher’s Stone from Lord Voldemort were able to be defeated by  _ first years _ , for Merlin’s sake! James knew, from fighting the insane monster himself and his brief acquaintance with Tom Riddle, that those meager enchantments would do absolutely nothing to stop the Dark Lord. The man was more likely to just tear through them than stop and solve each one, anyway. So why could a trio of first years beat all of them to reach the so-called ‘prize’ at the end?

Second year. Dumbledore had been a teacher in the school when the Chamber opened the first time, apparently, so he must have known what was going on, and what the creature was, if the same trio of now second year students (Hermione, really) could figure it out. When he and Ron actually went  _ into _ the Chamber to fight the monster and save Ginny, James nearly lost his life to the basilisk’s venom. Miraculously, Fawks, the headmaster’s companion phoenix, had shown up to help him fight, and later saved his life with healing tears. Potter luck, or a manipulative headmaster?

Third year, and knowing what he did now, James wondered why Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, hadn’t pushed for a trial for one Sirius Black. He couldn’t quite make himself believe that Dumbledore didn’t believe the man to be innocent. Who cast the Fidelius Charm, anyway? What was involved in that casting? In addition, there was the little fact that Peter Pettigrew had been living under the barmy codger’s nose for years while with the Weasley family. Had he not known about the Marauders’ animagus forms?

Fourth year was truly hell, and he didn’t even know how to manage that. Dumbledore was adamant that he compete, too, not showing a shred of sympathy for the fourteen-year-old who got thrust into a deadly tournament. Stupid.

Then there was last year, and James was so angry and fed up he could barely begin to think about all of the complete and utter  _ shit _ that went down that year. He was forced to take Occlumency lesson from not only their  _ spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks _ , but a person who shared a mutual hatred of the other with the small, green-eyed teen. They hated each other, and from what James had read on mind magics, Severus Snape was by no stretch of the word qualified to teach him. The ancient bastard  _ must _ have known that, there was absolutely no way he couldn’t have, and yet he sent James to the spiteful, hateful Potions Master anyway.

All of this led to one huge conclusion that no, he could not,  _ would _ not ever trust the Merlin-be-damned manipulative old bastard ever again, whether he returned to his time or not. Albus Dumbledore was dangerous, and it seemed he didn’t care about the means to the end, as long as the end was what he desired.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, James curled up under the covers, pulling the warmth closer to himself and settling in for the night. He would work out his remaining problems in the morning, for now, his exhaustion was finally catching up.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, James found himself dragged along to breakfast in the Great Hall by Druella and her friend, Vera Donovan. Tom, when he heard his call for help, just smirked and waved politely to the two determined women. James let out a resigned sigh when he realized the other teen would do nothing to stop them. He allowed himself to be pulled out of the common room and away from the comforting quiet.

“Druella,  _ why _ did you want to kidnap me?” James asked, eyeing her with suspicion. 

The blonde shared a look with her friend and grinned like a cat that got the canary. She and Vera pulled him into an alcove abruptly, manhandling him down onto the bench and throwing up an array of privacy and silencing charms. None of this made James any less suspicious, and only served to instill a sense of foreboding.

“So,  _ James _ , do you like the dorms?” she asked, voice drawling smoothly.

Vera perched on the opposite end of the bench, facing him. “Is Tom being nice enough to you? You two seem to get along  _ very _ well, for only knowing each other less than a day.”

“I... I... what?” James stuttered, confused and surprised. 

Druella rolled her eyes, smirking at him. “You and Tom seem to be very close, in a short period of time. We want to know if there’s anything going on between you two, as he’s oddly protective of you.”

James blushed fiercely, neck and ears flushing, and pressed back against the wall. He tried to stammer out denial, but his tongue didn’t want to work.  _ Nothing _ had happened between the two raven-haired boys, for Merlin’s sake! Sure, he found the other boy attractive, but who didn’t? Tom was very good-looking.

Vera scanned him expertly, appearing to almost read his mind. “No, nothing  _ did _ happen, did it? But that means you have a crush on him, if you’re reacting like this!” Her critical analysis turned to excitement by the end of the statement, and she was grinning, giddy with glee.

His blush, if possible, got even darker, and he buried his face in his hands. “Why me?” he mumbled. “You couldn’t just let it be, could you?” The snickers of the girls reached his ears and he sighed in mortification. 

Once they were done laughing, Druella pulled James into a tight hug. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll be supporting you in this, alright? You two are good for each other, I can tell. Just, if he hurts you, tell me, and I’ll castrate him. Okay?”

Vera chuckled, and James looked up at Druella hopefully. “You think I have...” he trailed off, mind brimming with possibilities. Then the thought of Sirius surfaced. No, never again. He couldn’t handle losing someone close to him  _ again _ . “I can’t, though. I’m not- I’m not looking for a relationship,” he lied, feeling sad. 

“Kid,” Vera began, earning a glare from Druella, “it doesn’t matter. You want him, you’ve admitted it, and he sure as hell wants you. Give it time, and don’t push him away, it’ll happen on its own. Tom’s not stupid, and you both deserve a little happiness.”

A thought struck him. “Are you a seer or something?”

She laughed, curly brown hair falling in front of her face as she bent over. “Hmm, I’m not a seer. I’m just really good at reading people,” she explained breathlessly, still chuckling. “You’ll be okay, kid. Dru already thinks of you as a friend. Should’ve been in Hufflepuff, right?”

“Hey, I resent that! James is just such a genuinely kind person, that’s unusual in a Slytherin,” Druella protested. Turning to James, she threatened, “And if you call me Dru, I swear to Merlin I will call you Jamie or whatever else ticks you off the most.”

James chuckled weakly, grimacing. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I have no intention of being called  _ Jamie _ . Good to know that ‘Dru’ is out,” he replied. “Do you think we could go to breakfast now? Unless, of course, you have some  _ other _ person to accost and interrogate.”

Druella had the grace to look sheepish at this, but Vera just kept grinning, unabashed and confident in her decisions. James thought that Vera would probably make a good Gryffindor, and that she reminded him of a less annoying Draco Malfoy. Druella was an interesting cross of Hermione and Ginny, with a bit of... Daphne Greengrass, maybe, thrown in. They were their own people, obviously, but they had qualities that reminded them strongly of his friends back home. It hit him with a sudden wave of homesickness, but he muddled through it as they made their way to the Great Hall. 

As a Slytherin, he should maintain a mask when in public.

  
  


Tom arrived in the Great Hall shortly after watching James being dragged away by the Rosier sister and Donovan. He scanned the Slytherin table, searching for the trio, and more specifically, James, but they weren’t seated there. Next, he scanned the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, but still no luck. He didn’t worry about Gryffindor, Rosier and Donovan would never be caught dead at the Lions’ table, but that left him annoyed. He didn’t like not knowing and having no control over the situation, and he currently didn’t know where James  _ was _ .

He wondered to himself about the chance of James purposefully skipping a meal. From what he knew of the teen, his starvation wasn’t self-inflicted, and he was perfectly willing to eat until he was full. Tom was confident that the smaller boy wouldn’t skip a meal on purpose, especially breakfast, as it was the most important for your body to function properly.

Approaching his typical spot, the other students shifted aside to give him plenty of space should he want it. He was the unquestionable ruler of Slytherin, and had been since his fourth year, when he finally convinced the oldest students of his power. Lestrange, Malfoy, and the Rosier brother were all seated around him, chatting quietly about what classes they’d continue to take and which they had dropped in favor of focusing on a career.

Softly, he asked, “Has anyone seen Granford?”

After receiving a few negatives, Tom brushed off the annoyance he felt and began to eat, mentally categorizing the food on the table based on what he preferred and what he believed James could comfortably eat. There was fruit, some greens, water and coffee pitchers, freshly made tea, eggs, ham, sausages, and a variety of toasts and jams. He preferred the spinach and cheese omelettes, himself, with a few slices of ham and a slice of whole grain toast to finish, so those were the foods he took for himself. The house elves had provided the table with his favorite foods since second year, where it became clear he liked routine. They were such helpful creatures, and obedient, too.

Halfway through his breakfast, Tom noticed the missing trio enter the Great Hall, looking no worse for wear. James was a little flushed for some reason, but they were all relaxed and composed. When the smaller boy glanced in his direction, he pinned the green-eyed boy with a cold stare, expressing his displeasure silently. His efforts were rewarded when James seemed to sag a little, shoulder dropping and head tilted down.

Druella reached the table first, placing herself two spots over from Tom, and the other two sixth years filled the seats on either side. The girls briefly and politely greeted him. 

“Morning, Tom,” Druella called softly.

Vera nodded. “Good morning. I hope we didn’t get James in trouble...?”

It was carefully phrased to seem like a statement, and there was a tone of worry in her voice, most likely to manipulate Tom into being lenient. Oh, he would be, just not with the girls. James  _ did _ ask for help escaping them, after all. He highly doubted that it was the other boy’s idea to show up late.

“I must admit, I was surprised to arrive and find you three missing,” he drawled blankly, no hint of how he felt other than surprise. “I believe you know, Druella, how I dislike surprises?”

_ There _ was the warning, a chance to apologize and atone for mistakes made. This was how Tom worked. If he was only mildly annoyed or inconvenienced, you were given a chance to make up for it. If Tom was very unhappy, annoyed, or angry, you would be punished. Simple. Easy. There was a clear system.

Druella cleared her throat uneasily, and glanced to Vera. “I... ah... yes. I’m sorry, Tom, I thought we would still get to breakfast before you. I wanted to talk with James, privately, and didn’t watch the time. What would you like me to do?” she apologized, head bowed.

Tom considered her for a moment. The Rosier sister didn’t really didn’t have anything that could be helpful at the moment, and she was already considered part of his circle even though she wasn’t part of his Knights of Walpurgis. 

“I don’t have anything for you now,” he replied. Tom relished the worried look on the girl’s face when she thought she wouldn’t have a way to make it up to him. “I will, however, accept a favor at a later date. If, of course, that’s alright with you?”

“Of course, Tom!” she replied happily, letting a quiet, relieved sigh escape as she forked up some of her eggs. “Again, I’m sorry for that. I thought you were going to read longer.”

After the two stopped talking, James began worrying. He was the one who dragged their conversation out by denying their claims, even though they were so persistent. And  _ then _ he joked around with Vera and Druella about  _ nicknames _ , of all things! He had gotten Druella in trouble, and now she owed Tom because of him.

He leaned closer to her and whispered, “Sorry, I got you in trouble, didn’t I?”

Druella’s eyes widened, and she replied softly, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, James. I was the one who should have been watching the time, don’t blame yourself.” She glanced at his plate with its meager portions. “Is that enough food? You should eat more.”

James grimaced at the thought. “I can’t stomach that much. I might not even be able to finish what’s on my plate  _ now _ . Don’t worry about me, it’s something I’ve had to deal with every year. Nothing new, anyway, I’ll be fine.”

Nathaniel and Abraxas glanced at him, then his plate.

“Really,” Abraxas deadpanned, staring at his plate.

Nate frowned. “Did you not eat enough over the summer, then? You looked plenty wealthy to me... what about your Lordship? Didn’t you get an inheritance?” 

The smallest teen let out a sigh of resignation. “It’s not that. I... I lived with some relatives over the summer. They don’t treat me all that well, but it’s nothing big. Just less food, locked in my room. They resent my parents, and I was kind of forced on them. I can’t really complain, because they give me a place to stay.”

“That’s bullshit,” Nate snarled. “You’re a wizard, you have rights! They’re your  _ relatives! _ ”

“Indeed,” Tom drawled, adding his opinion to the mix, “any magical child deserves better than neglectful imbeciles looking after them.”

Abraxas spoke, “Don’t you have inherited properties from your Lordship? If the Ministry learned of such treatment, and the fact that you have finances to take care of yourself, they’d probably grant you an emancipation in a heartbeat. In fact, didn't you already say you were emancipated? Any sane witch or wizard would never condone such treatment of an innocent child.”

“James,” Tom called softly, drawing his attention before he could answer, “I think it’d be wise for you to take nutrition potions until you’re able to eat a full, healthy meal.”

“The school nurse could happily prescribe you some,” Mulciber added.

James rolled his eyes at the apparent concern of his new friends. At the same time, he felt a warm, fluttery feeling in his stomach at the thought of them actually making an effort to help him, and couldn’t keep the tiny smile off his face. Even Ron and Hermione hadn’t noticed how bad it got at his relatives’ house over the summer. The fact that people he had just met the previous day paid enough attention to him to notice was amazing.

“I’m fine, though the potions might be a good idea,” the green-eyed boy replied. “Do any of you have the recipe? I’d like to avoid the hospital wing, if possible. Knowing medi-witches, I’d probably be confined there for a week, minimum.”

Nate and the others laughed, even Tom let out a quiet chuckle at his passing comment. Those who had been to the infirmary before knew exactly what the slight boy was speaking of. Given his condition, there was little chance James was wrong, too.

“Sure, though I’d like to oversee the brewing a few times to make sure nothing goes wrong,” Nate answered happily. “I’m studying to be a Potions Master after I graduate,” he explained at James’ curious stare. “It’s a respectable job, and my family’s had its hands in apothecaries and St. Mungo’s potion stock for years.”

James nodded, and listened contentedly as the conversation changed subjects.

  
  


Alexander glowered across the table at Granford and Tom, peeved by the closeness the two were displaying. Somehow, the transfer student had even ended up sharing rooms with the handsome Slytherin prefect, and he hated that. Alexander knew that Tom wouldn’t want to give up his privacy and share, and if the genius student had to share with anyone, it should have been  _ him _ , not some upstart novice like Granford.

He chanced a glance around him, to see if anyone else held contempt for their newest addition. Sure, Riddle’s Knights of Walpurgis had held a meeting about the puny teen, but there were plenty of students who admired the Slytherin King, and he might find allies among them who’d be willing to assist in humiliating the boy.

Vincent Greengrass had locked gazes with him when he looked around. There was an evil smirk, and he nodded to Granford. The message was quite clear, and another glance at a Ravenclaw girl in their year, something-or-other Mason, indicated her discontent, too.

After a quick look at Tom to make sure he hadn’t noticed his activities, Alexander motioned to the two others to follow, and left the Great Hall. Breakfast hadn’t been that good, anyway, spoiled by the attention Tom was paying to Granford.

“So,” the Mason girl began, catching up to the Slytherin boys, “what do you want?”

Alexander nodded to Vincent, who spoke. “James Granford is getting too comfortable here, Lestrange thinks. I, for one, don’t really care about his relationship with Riddle, but he’s gotten very comfortable and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since we got here. The pipsqueak needs to be knocked down a peg or two.” He smirked dangerously. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind a chance at that. No one can deny the transfer student’s attractive enough.

“I don’t like that he’s getting so close to Tom. He shouldn’t have to put up with helping a transfer student out all the time, and I know that Tom values his privacy and time,” Alexander explained, glaring. He stuck his nose in the air pompously. “My intention is to humiliate him and make Tom lose interest.”

Vincent chuckled darkly. “So my idea will work, after all. It’s certainly humiliating enough, and I doubt someone like Riddle would want used goods. It’d be an easy way to make him lose interest, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Someone like Riddle shouldn’t lower himself to helping out a lowly commoner like Granford, anyway. It’s not like the Lordship the brat holds has any weight, after all! What makes Riddle so interested in the kid? It can’t be just that he’s a new student, or he’d take a more active interest in the first years,” Mason exclaimed.

Alexander shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. He’s not that interesting, to be honest. Gay, yeah, and reasonably attractive, but nothing special. He didn’t even have any good secrets to share when we played Truth or Dare on the train.”

“Well,” Vincent drawled, “we’ll just have to see what we can manage, won’t we?”

His snide comment was met with two very evil grins.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offence to people called Jamie, one of my best friends is called Jamie, and he’s awesome. I’m fond of the name, myself. I just needed a nickname that made sense that would probably annoy James. Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

After breakfast, and a few quick switching spells to get the correct textbooks, the group of Slytherins contentedly made their departure from the Great Hall. Since they all of the sixth years had the same class, having decided it was in their best interest to continue the core classes, James got to walk with them to their first class of the day.

The schedules had been a little odd, the raven-haired wizard found, compared to what he had been used to. While the classes were generally the same, the amount of time spent in each class was extended, and they had less classes in a day. Their first class was a double period up to lunch, Transfiguration with Professor Dumbledore and the Gryffindor House. 

James wasn’t very thrilled about the social aspect of his first class. Gryffindor  _ did _ tend to be loud and excitable, and he was reluctant to spend any time around Dumbledore, but... it was a chance to learn from an impressive man, regardless. Anyway, it wasn’t as if the old manipulator would recognize him. The small youth would just have to grin and bear it.

When the admittedly large group of snakes reached the classroom, they all began filing in and picking seats in an incredibly organized manner. After standing back to watch for a moment, James realized it was similar to how they sat at their table in the Great Hall for meals. Tom was in the center of a ring of students, towards the front right side of the classroom. He was in the second row, three from the wall, and there was an empty spot directly left of him that was obviously for their newest associate.

The teen allowed a resigned sigh to escape his lips and strolled over to his designated seat. Tom picked up on his mood, as did Abraxas, but the two let it go for the time being. Tom knew it would eventually become clear just what was making the little raven unhappy, and he had the patience to wait. 

All of a sudden, a stream of Gryffindors entered the room, chattering loudly. James shook his head as several of the Slytherins rolled their eyes. The House rivalry was just as strong in the forties, apparently. A passing comment from their highly esteemed leader had them all pulling out their books, though, and just in time, too.

“Good morning, class,” came a strong but kind voice, as their professor strode into the classroom. “Nice to see you all again after the holidays. I’m so glad you all decided to join me again in another year of Transfiguration.”

Now it was James’ turn to subtly roll his eyes. That manipulative old man was just as bad even before he defeated Grindelwald and reached a position of power. Turning to his textbook, he flipped through a few pages to see what they were learning. Apparently, human and permanent transfiguration was up for the term’s agenda.

Dumbledore stood at the front of the classroom and wrote that day’s subject on the chalkboard. “Today, we’ll review a bit of what you learned last year, and finish up with theory on human to animal transfiguration. Near the end of the term, you’ll each have the opportunity to learn the theory behind the animagus transfiguration, and any student who thinks they can manage it will have the option of taking practical lessons on the transformation over Christmas holidays, which we will continue until the end of the school year.

“I want to be very clear on this,” he continued, “I do not expect many, if any, of you to manage to transform this year. If you do, you will have to register your form with the Ministry once you come of age. I, personally, don’t have an animagus form, but we will have a tutor come in for those who are serious about it.” 

After twinkling his eyes at the students, he scribbled the first spell they would review up on the board. It was a simple changing spell, to transfigure the subject into something else. The base incantation was  _ ‘transverto ad-” _ and you just added in a word or two in latin that represented whatever you wanted to change. The tricky part to the spell was imagining the thing you wanted to change it into. If you thought of too much, it’d mutate or become something else. If you thought of too little, not all of it would change.

James glanced down at the goblet that had been levitated to his desk. It brought him back to one of his earlier lessons with McGonagall where they were transfiguring goblets into rats. As Dumbledore hadn’t specified  _ what _ to change it into, he thought a rat would do nicely.

“ _ Transverto ad Mus _ ,” he stated quietly, gently tapping the goblet. His wandwork had gotten much more suave and precise after years around Seamus, Ron, and Hermione. The three of them had done wonders for why he needed precision control and how to achieve it. The spell worked beautifully, and sitting on his desk was a white-and-black-specked rat.

Tom, having done something similarly harmless, gave him a nod of approval. Abraxas had gone the stereotypical route and transfigured it into a non-venomous snake, and Druella was playing with a fluffy grey kitten. Some of the Gryffindor students could be heard muttering ‘ _ transverto ad leo’ _  to try and transfigure their cups into lions, but only one student managed anything before the professor stepped in.

Having nothing better to do, James decided to try something a little more dangerous and see what his friendly neighborhood prefect had to say. “ _ Transverto ad serpens. _ ” His rat shifted, growing and stretching, into a much larger emerald tree boa. It was a species he had seen in the zoo when he was eleven, and with its vibrant green scales and white lightning bolt patterns, he thought it represented who he had become very well.

“James! That snake is so pretty,” Druella exclaimed, being one of the first to notice. “What species is it? I’ve never seen one like that before, is it a magical breed?”

Tom glanced at the snake. “No, it’s an emerald tree boa, correct? They’re a non-magical species found in South America, in the rainforests there. It  _ is _ a very lovely snake, though. Your transfiguration work is very good, James.”

“Thank you,” the smallest teen replied happily. “My father was skilled in transfiguration, though I hadn’t shown much skill in it until recently. I used to think that I inherited most of my magical talent from my mother, but-”

“Mr. Granford,” Dumbledore interrupted, “please transfigure harmless creatures only, my boy. I know you haven’t been in my class before, but large, non-domesticated animals and otherwise dangerous animals are not allowed.”

The raven-haired wizard gritted his teeth at the man’s term of endearment and nodded, promptly reversing the transfiguration. “Sorry, sir, my mistake,” he apologized, plastering a huge false smile on his face.

The manipulative git returned his false smile with a real one and walked away to write more things up on the chalkboard. James didn’t realize before how much he loathed that man, but the grandfatherly smile made his skin crawl. He couldn’t wait until class was over.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see who wanted his attention. Tom gave him a reassuring smile, and commented, “I... dislike the muggle-loving fool, too, but his teaching style isn’t abysmal. After a few classes, he’ll begin to ignore you like he does to all the Slytherins, unless we act out.” He passed James a piece of paper. “Once the newness of you wears off, that is. The paper has directions to a room I’d like you to find during lunch. We don’t eat in the Great Hall for the first few days of term.”

James nodded silently, wondering just what Tom was up to. It was bound to be interesting and possibly fun, whatever it was. With that last thought, he returned his focus to the lesson, mentally preparing himself to deal with Dumbledork for another two and a half hours.

 

Finally, lunch break rolled around, and James got out of the classroom as fast as his feet could carry him. He’d never imagined a class taught by Dumbledore could be so  _ dull _ ! Theory was alright with McGonagall, not his favorite, but that was to be expected. The way that old crackpot taught it, though, that was approaching Binns’ level of monotony.

He pulled out the slip of paper Tom had handed him. The instructions were pretty vague, but there were symbols he recognized as belonging to certain places in the dungeons. He had the feeling that if he could puzzle it out, with a little effort. He wasn’t stupid, and while his heart was mostly Gryffindor still, his mind had always been Slytherin.

Fifteen minutes later found him in a hidden room well beneath the school. It was even lower than the dungeons, but that hadn’t surprised James. The Slytherin had been to the Chamber of Secrets before, after all, and it made sense that Salazar Slytherin had hidden more rooms amongst his portion of the castle. This one was spacious for the medium-sized group assembled, with very nice, if slightly archaic, furnishings. Deep green wasn’t the only color in the room, the rug and accents on some of the chairs were a dark royal blue. There was only the telltale silver of Slytherin, though, the matching Ravenclaw bronze was nowhere to be seen. He felt as if he had stepped into someone’s private home, rather than another room of the large, magical castle.

“James, it’s good to see you made it. I hope you didn’t have any trouble?” Tom greeted when his eyes fell on the new arrival. He was seated at the head of the dining table that had been placed in the room who knew how long ago. Once again, it enforced the feeling that these were someone’s private apartments, rather than a relatively public place in the castle.

The green-eyed boy shook his head in answer to the other teen’s question. “I’d ask what this is about, but I have a feeling I already know from how everyone seems to defer to your judgement. Your own secret organization, Tom?”

The teen in question smirked as a reply. James was shown to a seat at the other end of the table, and he guessed it was because no matter how interested Tom was in him, he hadn’t gained the boy’s trust and had not proved his loyalty as of yet.

With a nod from Tom, Abraxas began introductions. “We are an elite group of students formed to serve our master, the Heir of Slytherin. If you speak a word of what you’ve learned here to anyone not already initiated, we will find you and ruin you, politically, socially, and financially. And believe me, we  _ do _ have the power to do that.”

James nodded seriously. He knew over half the people in this room and what their families were capable of. He had no doubt that they could easily put James Granford six feet under, if they liked. Harry Potter, on the other hand... well, better left unsaid.

“Of course, you know myself and some of the others here,” the blond continued, mirroring his thoughts. “I’ll introduce those you haven’t had a chance to talk with at length, allow you to get to know them. You’ve met Vera at breakfast this morning, correct? She and Druella are good friends, and she is our seer, you may be surprised to learn.”

Vera gave him a big smile, and handed James a card. When he held it up to look at it, the raven-haired teen almost dropped the card. It was Death, plain and simple. He tried to recall his divination lessons on tarot cards, but the knowledge was eluding him due to the surprise of such a resonating card.

Then he remembered his earlier conversation with the brunette. “You said you weren’t a seer! So you  _ aren’t _ just good at reading people!” he exclaimed, slightly annoyed. “So, what does my card signify?”

The girl smirked. “I can’t believe you actually thought I’d admit to being a seer so easily. True seers are highly coveted, and it can be dangerous to be a neutral one, especially in a time of war, like now,” she drawled, frowning. “But you got the card ‘Death’, which means a great change in your life will happen soon, or is actively happening. It can be considered a chance to start over, in the most positive sense.”

Well. That explained it. James had already been going through a massive change since he first got to the forties. He had shed his name, claimed some of his heritage, and been sorted into the House he  _ should _ have been in. Vera was  _ very _ perceptive. And seer-ish. Now he could see the resemblance between her and Luna.

The remainder of lunch hour was spent allowing James to become acquainted with all the remaining members of Tom’s court, which he learned was called the ‘Knights of Walpurgis’, a play on the German holiday, Walpurgisnacht. Even the Slytherin leader himself talked and joked around with his allies, always keeping an eye on their newest member.


	11. Chapter 11

James strolled casually to the library after lunch, letting his meal settle more comfortably. He’d been given a free period when there’d normally be Divination or Arithmancy, directly after the lunch period, and so he was left alone to wander the castle. All of his new friends had a class during that period, after all. Finding something to do was easy, though. What Dumbledore had mentioned earlier in Transfiguration appealed to him, so he was on his way upstairs to research the Animagus Transformation.

The librarian was very helpful, seeing as he was in sixth year, and clearly old enough to be looking up such topics despite his short stature. There were a multitude of books to choose from, though only three or four seemed like they’d be particularly helpful. He spent the entire time there simply reading and making notes on things he’d have to purchase for the process. It would make him feel closer to his father and Sirius, which was well worth the effort in itself, not to mention he’d actually be able to  _ turn into an animal _ .

When the bell for passing time went off, he closed the books and slid them back into their places with a long sigh. It would take most of the school year, at best, to complete such a long process without assistance or supervision. There was  _ no way _ he’d accept Dumbledore’s help, though. That was pushing his patience too far.

Just as he turned around, a spell impacted heavily against his back, and he crashed to the floor. A light, burning  _ pain  _ spread itself over his back from the spot the spell hit, and he hissed quietly at the feeling. He didn’t know what the spell was, or the counterspell, so there were only two options left to him. The infirmary, or...

_ “Finite incantatem!” _ Nothing changed, and he groaned to himself. It was the  _ first day of classes _ , and he was already headed for the Hospital Wing. Cursing silently, he picked up his bag and stalked out of the library as fast as he could.

  
  


“Where were you?” came the expected question from Tom. Their class had started over ten minutes ago, and James had only just made it there. He knew it wasn’t from getting lost. The girls, Druella and Vera, had taken the time to explain where he had to go at lunch.

James groaned and let his head hit the desk. “I got hexed as I was leaving the library. Had to go to the Hospital Wing for the counter-curse, ‘cause I didn’t know it, and it hurt.”

Tom glanced around, scanning the room for any guilty faces. There were none, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been any of them. He asked, “Did you see who cast the spell? What was the hex they used?”

“A mild burning hex. It doesn’t cause actual damage, apparently, but it’s annoying as hell, and painful, too,” James replied grumpily, sitting up again. He took in Tom’s expression and felt cheered by the obvious anger. Or, well, obvious to  _ him _ . “I wish I  _ had _ seen the bastard. It’d be nice to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

The Slytherin prefect nodded with a small smirk. “Certainly. Perhaps we will find out, if they decide to attack you once again. That would be a stupid mistake, though, and thus implicate a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff.”

James nodded back, and the two of them refocused on their lesson. 

  
  


James had been attacked in the halls off and on through the rest of September, since that incident. If Tom was nearby, the hexes and jinxes were quickly dispelled and the assailant was promptly apprehended and given detention. If it was a Slytherin, Tom handed out his  _ own _ brand of punishment. Nathaniel and the other friends James had made also helped to defend the small sixth year from what seemed to be half the school.

James had started the Animagus training, and used his free periods to conduct ancestry tests on muggleborn and half-blood students with muggleborn parents. He wanted proof of the goblins’ beliefs, and solid evidence that muggleborns were no less worthy of magic than all of the purebloods that existed in the magical world. If he had enough proof and a convincing theory, maybe Tom and the others would accept it from a logical point of view. 

He wasn’t one to defend muggles, though. They were people, and deserved to be treated as such, but they were so  _ dangerous _ to everything magical. They feared what they couldn’t understand, and what they feared, they destroyed. While Harry knew it was impossible to get rid of them all, and didn’t really want to either way, he  _ did _ support a complete separation from those with no magic in their blood. It was for the best of both societies, after all.

It had taken James a long time to come to that conclusion, but ever since he became aware of the magical world as a whole, he knew there was something different between the two people, more than simple  _ magic _ . Now, he had made up his mind.

The ancestry tests were certainly amusing, though. There were apparently some dead lines that had cast out squibs, and were no longer dead. He swore the volunteers to partial secrecy, in order to keep the future from changing, but they had the knowledge and could pass it down to their children and grandchildren. They also could take money and contribute to their family vaults without having a family head controlling the estate. Financial support had always been appreciated, and this was no different.

James had started up a correspondence with the goblins in light of his discoveries. He’d recommended that the muggleborns who claimed vaults have a cap on how much they could remove or spend in a year, since there could be others who had as much a right to that money as they did. This was how he spent the majority of September, working his way through his classes, brewing potions and working on gaining weight, and spending time with his friends. It was a novel experience, having a relatively  _ normal _ school life.

  
  


Homework was always the most annoying thing about school, to James. 

“Tom, can you pass me my Defense book? I’ve got to do the essay we were assigned yesterday.” He pulled out his ink-pot and quill, offering a quick thanks as the other teen did as he was asked and promptly passed him the book.

Skimming through the chapter pertaining to his essay’s subject, he spread out his things on the smooth wood of the desk. Tom was reading another obscure text from the Restricted Section, something that didn’t surprise James at all. They often spent the evenings working in relaxed silence, taking turns using the desk and the coffee table. Or, James used the coffee table when Tom was using the desk, as the prefect was completely unwilling to  _ ever _ use a table so low to the ground that he’d have to kneel or sit cross-legged to use it.

Just as James was about to set his quill to the parchment, Tom snatched the paper deftly away, sliding it out from underneath his hands in one fluid motion. James’ head snapped up, and he glared at the other boy.

“What was that for, Tom?” he snapped, cleaning the drops of ink on the table with a simple, wordless  _ scourgify _ . 

“Your handwriting is atrocious, James,” the boy drawled, casting a glance at the completed essay lying on top of the smaller teen’s book bag. “I simply can’t let this go on any longer. I’m going to teach you how to write properly with a quill, as you were obviously never instructed how.”

James rolled his eyes and sighed. “My handwriting ha always been like that. I doubt that it’ll change anytime soon. It’s not like my relatives...” he trailed off, nervous. He had been in this time  _ how long _ now, and he still slipped up like that? 

True, his relatives  _ hadn’t _ cared whether his handwriting was legible or not, because as long as he did worse than Dudley, he wasn’t punished for it. In this time, though, he had been going by the story that he was homeschooled, and most parents would probably like to be able to  _ read _ their child’s work. It didn’t fit with his background that he had such pitiful script.

“It’s not like your relatives... what?” Tom inquired quietly. 

Going out on a limb, he decided to slip in his time with muggles. “The muggles, the ones who looked after me when my parents were busy, they didn’t put much emphasis on my grades or abilities, as long as I did worse than their child. I spent enough time at their house through my childhood that the habits I formed towards schoolwork stuck.”

“Hmm...” Tom mused, going over options in his head. “I still believe that you should have better handwriting. Your script doesn’t match your style, and it will show in the letters you send and any legal documents, not to mention your schoolwork. As a pureblood Lord, you should be more concerned with maintaining your public image and political standing, and, believe it or not, a person’s handwriting  _ does _ influence how others see them.”

James just sighed and dropped his head in his hands morosely. “Well, what can I do? I’ve never properly learned how to write using a quill! Pencils and pens are hard enough, with my messed up hands...” 

“Don’t sulk,” Tom commanded harshly. When James’ eyes were on his, Tom’s expression softened. The taller boy glanced down to James’ fingers, slightly crooked and obviously damaged in several places. Gently, he explained, “I would be willing to teach you. We would have to fix the badly-healed bones in your hands, though. Are you willing to go through the pain of that?”

“To get rid of my damned chicken scratch?” the small teen exclaimed. “Always!”

“Good. We’ll do it this weekend, then,” Tom decided. His face showed the contentedness he felt whenever his companion agreed to better himself. James was improving greatly, and the first month of school had just wrapped up. Tom was very pleased with the young man.

  
  


When the weekend finally rolled around, Tom escorted James down to the Hospital Wing, accompanied by Nathaniel and Druella Rosier. James complained and whined the whole way down, but didn’t physically resist at all. They were doing him a favor, and the only problem he had with the plan was that it involved the Hospital Wing and an overbearing Medi-Witch. 

“ _ Tom~! _ ” James whined, biting his lip slightly. “Do we  _ have  _ to go to the Hospital Wing for this? I thought when you said ‘we’ll do it’, you meant  _ us _ . As in, you and I. Maybe with Nate and some of the others.”

The taller teen just huffed in amusement. He would not admit it aloud, not yet, but the pouting and whining James was doing was incredibly endearing. He wasn’t complaining about how he’d be in pain, or the time it would take. “Hush, James. I want to ensure it is done  _ properly _ , so that when you heal, you’ll never have to worry about it again.”

Druella grinned at her tiny friend, and added, “Don’t worry! Madam Worthwood will let you out as soon as it’s done!”

“Indeed,” Nathaniel drawled with a smile, “I think that you have very little to worry about.”

James went back to pouting in silence and allowed himself to be led inside the incredibly white room. All of the beds were empty, and the healer was sitting at her desk, filling out papers and forms, no doubt. Tom immediately droppe James’ hand and walked over to the woman.

“Excuse me, but my friend had damage done to his hands and fingers at a previous date, and the bones mended improperly. Would you be able to fix the damage? It is impeding his ability to write properly, and his essays are a mess.”

The Medi-Witch looked up, startled, and blinked while she processed what was said. A few moments later, she replied, “Why yes, I can. Do you know how old the injuries are?”

Tom glanced back to James, and narrowed his eyes. “Early childhood,” he admitted, his eyes taking in the small teen’s uncomfortable expression. James  _ really _ didn’t like the Hospital Wing, it seemed. He’d certainly been there often enough over the past month, though, so it made a bit of sense. The teen was probably sick of it.

“Oh, dear,” the witch muttered, going over to the potions cupboard. “I’ll have to completely regrow them, then. That will take a bit longer, I’m afraid, and will be much more painful. Are you planning to stay with the poor child? I’m sure he’d appreciate something to read. Or, well, someone to read it  _ to _ him, seeing as he won’t be able to hold the book.”

Tom nodded, and then went to explain to the others. They’d stay with James in shifts, and Tom would stay overnight, as this had been his idea. He took his responsibilities seriously, James was pleased to note. He felt happy that the others were willing to go to such lengths for him when they didn’t really have to. 

As the tiny sixth year settled in to wait, he beamed at his friends. It was worth the Hospital Wing.


	12. Chapter 12

Early October was met with a chilly breeze on the grounds and cloudy skies. Not like there was ever much else, but the could cover was thicker than usual, and it rained more often than it had previously. News of the war with Grindelwald was getting steadily worse, and people were beginning to contact Dumbledore with pleas for help. Quidditch was picking up and the students were looking forward to the brief holiday at the end of the month.

Classes were going well for James. He’d improved greatly in Potions, Ancient Runes, and Charms now that his memory retention wasn’t messed with, and Tom had helped him study History of Magic. Binns was just as boring a teacher alive as he was dead. 

Speaking of Tom, James’ crush on the other teenager had only grown since the start of the school year. Druella and Vera were also making an effort to help it along, mostly by pointing out how much Tom stared at him, or how good the Slytherin looked right then, or how James was getting all kinds of special treatment from the other boy. 

It never failed to make James blush, so he nearly always had his nose stuck in a book when spending time with those two. Cygnus and Edward had both warmed up to the teenager and the two of them often joined in when they noticed James playing Exploding Snap or chess with the girls or Nathaniel. Louis and James always talked about various charms, theory and creative practical application. The Mulciber heir had even taught James how to recolor his own hair, on the off chance Louis wasn’t around to do it himself.

The thing James enjoyed the most, though, was the time he spent with Tom in their shared dorm rooms. Both boys were perfectly content to just sit and read together, and when they  _ did _ talk, it was always a productive conversation. Whether about magical theory, James’ muggleborn research, or just personal preferences, it was pleasant and worthwhile. None of their words were wasted on the other.

  
  


Tom gently set his book down, turning with a smirk to face James. “So, what is your opinion on transfiguration as a battle tactic?”

James stared blankly back for a moment, before thinking. Slowly, he replied, “I guess it would depend on your opponent, the environment, and what you have around you, wouldn’t it? If there was nothing for you to transfigure, except the ground, the uses would be really limited, wouldn’t it? Conjuration would be a better idea, even if it drains more magic.”

“Indeed? So, you’ve come to the same conclusion I have, then,” Tom drawled, smiling. He leaned over to tap the cover of his book briefly. “They don’t cover much of the many offensive applications transfiguration can have when used creatively. Mostly, they simply discuss blocking physically, both objects and spells.”

“Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s a sixth-year textbook, not a book for a dueling class, or aurors, or the like. In the end, if you’re smart enough, and creative enough, you’ll probably figure it out for yourself, like we did,” James countered.

Tom frowned. “You have a point. There are several books on battle transfiguration in the Restricted Section I’ve glanced at a few times, so it’s not an unusual concept.”

“You’re just more intelligent than the general population, Tom. Face it, what you can do and how fast you learn are  _ way _ better than anything the average witch or wizard can manage. I can cast a Patronus Charm, a corporeal one, and I did at thirteen years old. I may not be up to your level, but how many people would you say can do it? I’ve got my strengths, and my own magic’s above average.” James grinned at his friend. “I can’t match you yet, but I’ll keep trying, so just wait, Tom!”

Tom smirked right back, pleased that he was the smaller teen’s goal. James  _ was _ his, no matter who said otherwise. “Don’t shortchange yourself, little raven. You’re more powerful than you give yourself credit for, you know. You’re only behind me in knowledge, at this point.”

James snorted, but didn’t bother arguing. They’d been over that before, and neither of them were willing to change their opinion on the matter. James simply didn’t believe he was all that, and Tom  _ knew _ James could be great. They just agreed to disagree, at that point.

Tom picked up his book and went back to reading. James relaxed into the soft cushions of the couch and closed his eyes, the other teen’s steady breathing lulling him to sleep.

  
  


The Slytherins in sixth year had some of the best scores in DADA. Part of that was due to practical knowledge of the Dark Arts, and part of it was due to how often they had to defend themselves against the rest of the school. Many of them had learned shield charms in their first year out of simple necessity, and so their current class was as easy as breathing. 

They had been told to pair up to test the strength of their various shield charms, and see if they could improve them. Druella and Louis were standing in the corner, Abraxas was facing Alexander in the back of the classroom, and James was standing across from Tom up at the front of the class. Their classmates were spread out around them, but James was having so much fun fake-duelling with Tom that he wasn’t paying attention to what anyone else was doing during their practical lesson.

James didn’t know how it had all gone so wrong. One moment, he was casting an advanced offensive spell at Tom during DADA for shield charm practice, and the next, he was lying on the ground with blood seeping from his shoulder. He was hardly aware of the pain, the little sixth year had felt far worse many times, but as he was slowly bleeding out, he caught a glimpse of his friend’s darkly enraged face and burning eyes searching out whoever cast the spell, even as he strode over to where James lay.

The small teenager had no idea how he’d ended up on the floor, it had all happened in a flash, and all James could focus on was the ceiling above him, and, moments later, Tom’s more than worried face as the other Slytherin leaned over his body.

There was yelling, and a few people screamed. Obviously, someone had misfired a cutting hex and it had hit James in some kind of freak accident where there was a surprisingly high amount of damage. The professor was trying to calm everyone down and get to the raven-haired teen. It was chaos. The last thing James heard before he blacked out was Tom murmuring a spell softly, tracing his wand over the wound in his shoulder. 

  
  


James slowly fought his way to consciousness, disoriented and confused. What had happened? Had there been an attack? Did his uncle decide to teach him a ‘lesson’ again? There was an ache in his shoulder, and his head spun a little, dizzy enough to make him queasy. When he finally managed to open his eyes, the situation came rushing back.

He was in the hospital wing in Hogwarts, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at waking up alone. James knew it was a selfish thought, but he wanted to know that someone cared enough, to be worried about him enough, that they would have chosen to wait by his bedside for him to wake up. 

The minute he finished that train of thought, his mood darkened and words of self-hate came flying to the forefront of his mind.   _ “You selfish freak! Why would anyone take time out of their busy day and important classes to visit  _ you _? Sure, you got hurt pretty badly, but even Ron and Hermione wouldn’t hang around and wait for you to wake up. You barely know these people, you worthless, ungrateful piece of trash. You should be thankful that Tom was willing to heal you, he wasn’t required to by any means.” _

His jaw clenched, and he fought back tears. It was true. He was ungrateful, Tom had healed him before doing his duty as a prefect and calming the students, maintaining order. Of course no one would be waiting for him to wake up. He was closest to Tom and Nate, and that was saying a lot, considering Tom didn’t generally  _ have _ friends. He had allies and servants. James knew he was never Tom’s first priority. Back in his own time, the only reason he  _ was _ the first priority was because of his status as the Boy-Who-Lived and the Chosen One. 

James failed to notice the door silently swing open and the soft footsteps approaching his bed. Tom had stepped out for a short while to eat dinner and order someone to bring a tray for the small green-eyed Slytherin later, and when he returned to see the boy hunched over and shaking, he knew his absence had caused it. James was such an insecure person, most likely due to his relatives, and though the small teenager was stunning and powerful, he refused to see it himself.

The taller boy gently laid a hand on James’ shoulder. It made the boy’s head whip up in surprise. Shock filled his expressive eyes. The tears he had been fighting slipped out, and the vulnerable boy bit his lip nervously. He was terrified that Tom would react badly to the weakness he so openly displayed, but James couldn’t for the life of him stop the flood of emotions.

Tom let out a sigh and pulled the other boy closer. “It’s alright, my little raven, I’m here for you. I only stepped away to eat dinner and ask for some to be sent to you. I didn’t imagine that you would wake up when I was gone,” he whispered, carding fingers through the loose black locks, gently untangling them. He enjoyed the feeling of the silky hair, as messy as it was.

“Sorry,” James whimpered, “I’m sorry. Please, it’s okay, Tom. It’s- I shouldn’t have expected, I mean, I’m not worth-”

“Stop. Do  _ not _ say you aren’t worth it, James. You are powerful, intelligent, and too kind for your own good. You need to be more selfish. Yes, you  _ are _ worth it,” the young man pressed. 

James nodded slowly, and clutched tightly to Tom’s shirt. “Stay, please,” he muttered, holding on in hopes that Tom would allow him this comfort a while longer. He was only taking his friend’s advice to be more selfish, even as his subconscious was screaming that the other boy would hate him for this, that he was lower than trash. His fears were washed away when he felt Tom shift and settle next to him on the wide hospital bed, holding him carefully. It wasn’t long before he was calmed back to a peaceful sleep.

  
  


After another full day in the hospital wing and frequent visits (and bribes) from Tom, the matron was finally willing to release James. He was bursting with energy after being confined to bed for an entire twenty-four hours, except for restroom breaks and a shower, and he was ready to get to class. Ancient Runes was actually  _ fun _ , like Defense Against the Dark Arts!

Tom had to go to classes that day, so he wasn’t able to be there all the time, but James felt more sure of himself now. For almost the entire time the prefect spent visiting him, the taller boy reassured James and reinforced the idea that  _ he was worth something _ , that he was just as important and the next person. 

The others had each presented him with a get-well gift, more often than not candy or a treacle tart. That had made him laugh hard enough to nearly fall off the bed. The nurse had been a bit peeved at them for it, but she smiled happily when she noticed James’ mood improved. It seemed that the incident in Defense class had a good outcome. Abraxas, Edward, Jerod, and even a few of the younger Slytherins warmed up to James more since then. Abraxas and Edward had both commented on his dueling skills, and that they’d like to see just how well the small teen  _ could _ fight. James was finally growing to be accepted by the Slytherin House as a whole.


	13. Chapter 13

Three weeks into October, and James was relaxing into a normal school life even further. His self-worth had improved a bit due to the constant reassurances from Tom whenever they were in private or semi-public spaces. Nate had also picked up on it, and tended to praise James whenever the sixth year showed off or improved on his practical work. The others avoided making comments on the whole thing, but they didn’t offer anything other than constructive criticism when James did something wrong or poorly. 

Druella, Vera, Abraxas, and James were all walking to the Great Hall for dinner when they were joined by Alexander, Jerod, and Tom. The prefect’s eyes lingered on James for more than a few moments, and the girls instantly shot each other knowing looks. The group continued on and chatted casually as they walked, smiling and laughing quietly.

“So, Tom, how was Arithmancy?” Abraxas asked politely.

The taller, dark-haired boy smiled faintly. “Very good. I’m performing well in both theory and practical application, so I might simply  _ make _ you all Christmas gifts this year. What do you think, Alexander? James?”

Alex grinned, before his face flashed with annoyance at Tom’s address to the tiny teen. “I think it’d be  _ wonderful _ to get a handmade gift from you, Tom! I’m sure it would function much better than anything you could purchase in any store, too. You’re a prodigy, after all.”

“Alexander’s right,” James agreed easily, smiling slightly. “Though I don’t understand why you’d be asking me.” 

He gazed curiously at the shocked and surprised faces when the group suddenly fell silent. Everyone was staring at him with mixed degrees of horror, pity, unhappiness, and anger. He was suddenly incredibly nervous. He bit his lip and lowered his head a bit, staring at the floor and fiddling with his robe.

“James.” Tom waited for James to look up, but the teen didn’t. “ _ James _ .”

After the second time, the boy’s vivid green eyes met his, though more shyly than they usually did. It seemed they’d gone three steps back from the one or two they’d made forward since the incident. Tom sighed quietly, and offered a kind smile.

“James, you didn’t do anything  _ wrong _ , you just said something unexpected. If I can manage it, I always get my companions a gift for the holiday season, and have since second year. You are one of my companions, now, so I’m also going to be getting a gift for  _ you _ ,” he explained patiently. 

James bit his lip again, eyes watering a little. He nodded, and then sped up to go ahead of the group and regain control of his emotions. Tom nodded once to them before quickening his pace to catch up. He had planned to ask the other boy something important, but if James got far enough ahead, he’d have to wait until after dinner to do it.

He didn’t pay attention to the footsteps following him, and merely reached out and caught the thin arm when he could. “James, wait a moment. I have something I’d like to ask you, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few minutes of your time.”

The little teen froze, and blinked in surprise as he turned around. Seeing that he had James’ full attention, Tom began. “You are very intelligent, powerful, and resourceful, not to mention attractive and cunning. I’ve been thinking on this since you were sorted into Slytherin, and I’ve made up my mind. Would you allow me to court you?”

“I... a-ah, uh...” James stammered, lighting up bright red.

Behind them, Tom could hear Druella’s excited squeal, and rolled his eyes.  _ That _ was one of the reasons he disliked girls, romantically or as potential partners. He refocused on his little raven, who was still a delectable shade of red. His blush went even darker red, and down past his collar, when Tom smirked at him and stepped closer. The height difference was also very appealing to the taller teen, and it only ever furthered his desire for James.

Biting his lip, James tried to think straight. Tom. Tom had asked to court him. To court  _ him!  _ Out of everyone he knew! Tom was incredibly handsome, and when he stepped closer with that smirk of his, James felt his brain literally  _ vanish _ into nothingness. All he could do was give his answer, physically, by standing on his toes and lightly kissing Tom’s cheek. Then, his knees went a bit weak, and the other teen had to keep him from falling. Tom! Wanted  _ him! _

“I take that as a yes?” he drawled smoothly. James nodded into his chest, hiding his face and the impressive blush that was covering it. “Good. I’m pleased you accept.”

He glanced back to the group with an amused, contented smirk, slightly different from the one he used on James. “I think I might not go to dinner, tonight. My little raven needs some time to cool off, I think. Druella, would you mind bringing back a couple plates for us? I don’t want him to miss any meals if he can help it.”

A smug grin on her face, the blonde girl nodded. “Of course not, Tom! I’ll make sure to bring your favorites. I’m glad you asked James. It’s been a long time coming, too. He’s had a crush on you since the first day!”

Tom blinked at that, and then laughed. Actually, honest-to-god  _ laughed _ , without any hint of malice, smugness, or anything other than pure happiness and amusement. The rest of the group got out of there as quick as they could manage and not have it be overly obvious to their charismatic leader. They’d never heard Tom laugh like that before, and it truly unnerved them. It just  _ didn’t happen _ . Druella had achieved a miracle.

Once the two sixth year boys were alone in the hall, he easily scooped James up into his arms. The indignant and surprised squeak the smaller boy made added to Tom’s amusement and good mood. After readjusting James slightly, Tom began the moderately long trek back to their common room.

  
  


James was set down on the couch inside their dorm room, and smiled faintly as Tom moved around the shared quarters, tidying up the books and parchment they’d left out earlier. He was honestly shocked that Tom had wanted him enough to ask him out. It didn’t fit the character James was familiar with, of both the future Dark Lord and the current charismatic teenager. He’d been told that Tom had never dated anyone before, or even considered it in the slightest. The only thing he found in-character was the ease with which he asked, and his willingness to pursue what he wanted without fail.

Once Tom settled in the armchair next to the couch, James said, “I can’t believe you really asked me out...”

“Why is that? Do I seem that indifferent to you?” Tom asked in return, frowning.

James shook his head with a sigh. “No. You’re great company, and I could easily tell that you cared about me. I guess I just didn’t think... that you’d want  _ me _ . Nearly anyone in the school would jump at the chance to date you.”

He chuckled, understanding, and smirked at James. “True, but no one is  _ you _ .”

James blushed again, pulling his knees up to his chest, and leaned into the couch. Tom rose to his feet and stepped closer, looming over the tiny teen with a predatory grin. He gently ran his fingers through his new boyfriend’s black hair, playing with the long strands, and delicately caressed the boy’s cheek with his other hand, tilting James’ face up.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Tom asked, voice laced with something James couldn’t identify. He watched and waited for a response from the teen. James could only manage a weak nod, mind fuzzy with everything that was happening, and the other hand left his hair to cradle his face as Tom softly pressed their lips together.

The kiss, as delicate and chaste as it was, practically melted James where he sat. He’d never anticipated Tom asking to court him, and all of his admittedly limited fantasies involved a kiss much harsher and more dominating from the other boy. Tom was a controlling person, and very possessive, so James had assumed that would be their relationship, if they had one. This was unexpectedly nice. 

When they parted and Tom knelt in front of James, he asked, “Was that okay?”

James flushed, dazed, and exclaimed, “Okay? It was amazing...”

Tom smiled warmly and pressed a light kiss to his nose. “Good. I’m glad.”

Slowly uncurling, James let himself relax from the nervous ball he was in earlier. He stared at Tom, trying to memorize every detail of the taller boy’s face, and a dopey grin stole its way across his lips. This person, this gorgeous young man, wanted him for who he was. James had never hidden his true nature since being sorted into Slytherin. Everything Tom knew about him was entirely  _ James Elric Granford _ , entirely  _ him _ , without masks and defenses. It was a heady feeling, to say the least.

“Could we... kiss again?” James asked shyly. This was a new experience for both of them, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. The fact that Tom had asked his permission before actually doing anything made him feel safe and protected.

Sliding up to sit next to the smaller teen, Tom nodded. “Ask, and you shall receive, my little raven,” he replied suavely. “I certainly won’t protest, in any case.”

James grinned, and leaned over to press a light kiss on Tom’s lips. “Thank you for asking, that was very sweet of you.” 

Eyes darkening, Tom wrapped an arm around James’ shoulders and explained, “I’ve been forced to do things I didn’t like in the past, and I’ve seen some people sexually assaulted once or twice. Consent... consent is very important to me.  _ I _ may not have gone through that kind of ordeal, but I don’t want anyone I choose to be with to be forced into anything. You may always say no, if you are uncomfortable.”

James nodded, curling into Tom’s side. “You’re amazing, you know?”

He laughed throatily, grinning at his little raven. “I’ve been made aware of that fact, yes.”

“You arse!” James laughed, lightly hitting his stomach. “You’ve got too much ego for your own good, Mr. Prefect! It certainly doesn’t help that all everyone’s always praising you, does it?”

“You’re right, of course,” Tom pretended to sneer, nose stuck in the air.

James stretched up and turned his face back, grinning. “Want to try snogging?”

Tom grimaced. “Please, that’s so uncultured. I prefer to simply kiss deeply.”

“Stuck-up prat,” the little teen giggled, allowing Tom’s mouth to press against his own. He pressed back, faintly, and both boys opened their mouths slightly as the kiss became more heated. Tom’s tongue slid out along James’ lips, and the green-eyed teen gasped, allowing his partner entrance. Tom dominated the kiss as little as he could, but James didn’t even fight back, submitting easily to the other. The taller boy ran his hands through long, black hair and tugged lightly, eyes gazing hungrily as James exposed his neck and broke the kiss.

Slowing down, he watched carefully for any hints that his partner disliked the experience as he trailed his lips along the pale expanse of skin. Once he was sure that James was only able to enjoy it and desire more, he began nipping and kissing that delicate jaw, sucking lightly and earning breathy moans that only fueled his lust. He bit down lightly on James’ neck, just below his ear in a particularly sensitive spot, and sucked.

When he pulled back to take in his little raven’s ravished expression, panting, flushed, with eyes blown wide in lust, he felt a rush of giddy joy.  _ He _ did that. James was moaning and panting under  _ his _ lips, and the thought was deeply gratifying. He spotted the dark bruise his mouth left underneath James’ right ear, and had to bite his lip to keep control of himself. The sight was incredibly erotic, a mark on James to prove the little teen was  _ his _ . 

“How do you feel?” Tom purred, smirking. 

James closed his eyes, drawing in a few deep breaths, and sighed happily. “Amazing. That... that was...” he trailed off, unable to find a word to fit the experience. Tom was immensely skilled for someone who had never dated anyone before. “How did you know... to do that?”

The young man smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to James’ cheek. “Observing others, and instinct. I listened to my body and my desires. I  _ wanted _ you, and you were amenable, so I allowed myself to have you. I take it that was more than satisfactory?”

James nodded. “It was brilliant. You were brilliant.”

Tom offered a warm smile and pulled the little teen against his chest, lounging back against the couch. “Wonderful. Do you want a nap? Druella will come with dinner for us in a bit,” he commented soothingly.

Smiling, James allowed himself to drift off, listening to Tom’s steady heartbeat.


	14. Chapter 14

James was awoken by a soft knock and Tom’s shifting underneath him. Sitting back on the couch, he allowed the other teen to answered the door. The small young man didn’t catch Tom’s expression, but he could feel a sense of contentment from the other’s magic, a relaxed, very soothing pulse that filled the room. He shifted to sit properly and waited.

Druella strode into the shared living room with two plates of fresh food. Setting them down on the coffee table, she dusted off her hands and rested them on her hips with a cheery grin. To her, James looked adorable when he was all sleepy and unguarded. She scrutinized his slightly messy appearance, and spotted the mark Tom left.

Spinning, she squealed. “Tom! You two have already kissed! That’s wonderful!”

James flushed red, and the Slytherin prefect carefully removed Druella’s hands from his shoulders as she bounced in place. “Indeed. I appreciate the trouble you went to for us, getting us fresh food, and all. Thank you, Druella. What were everyone’s reactions, after I left?”

The girl calmed down and sat on the armchair, allowing Tom to take his place next to James. Slowly, she began, “Varied, I guess. Across the group, shock was the most common, followed by general acceptance. Abraxas and Nate seemed especially pleased, most likely because they predicted it would happen. No bets were made, apparently, or if they were, none of the group was stupid enough to pay up in public.”

“Good. And the others? Were there any particularly negative reactions?” he asked.

Druella pursed her lips in distaste. “Lestrange was  _ clearly _ jealous. I’d be cautious around him, James. He already disliked you enough, and this might turn to hatred soon. No one else likely to protest was in a position to know what had happened, although rumors will spread quick enough on their own. Do you want me to spread anything in particular?”

Taking a moment to think, Tom closed his eyes. Finally, he commanded, “Share accurate accounts. I am not ashamed of my relationship with James, and that shall be made completely clear to anyone who asks. My little raven still needs his self-esteem boosted, as well, since he’s unaware of just how much he’s worth.”

James blushed and pressed a speedy kiss to Tom’s cheek. “Can we eat now?”

Blinking, Tom nodded. “My apologies. Go ahead, James.” Turning back to Druella, he finished, “That’s all for the time being. I will not be accompanying the group to Hogsmeade this coming weekend. I think it’d be a wonderful time to take James on a date.”

Druella grinned, and nodded respectfully to the two young men as she left. News of their relationship would be all over Hogwarts by sundown, or she didn’t deserve her place as Slytherin Gossip Queen.

  
  


The last class James had on Friday was Care of Magical Creatures, with the Gryffindors. He’d been pleased to discover that they didn’t really pay much attention to him, and most of the sixth year Gryffindors didn’t try to bully or antagonize the Slytherins. In fact, Fleamont Potter, Brian Abbott, and Charlotte Falkner were becoming decent friends of his. James just counted himself lucky to have been able to meet his paternal grandfather, let alone actually get to know the young man. Brian Abbott, who he was sure was related to the Hannah Abbott he knew in his own time, was also a kind person. He was mildly surprised Brian hadn’t ended up in Hufflepuff, like his descendant. He seemed very loyal, and took his classes seriously, as well. 

Charlotte was something else. She was loud, perpetually cheerful, and couldn’t leave anyone alone if she thought they could be sad or unhappy. Charlotte reminded him of the Creevey brothers, though darker in coloration. Her brown eyes looked almost black, and she loved showing off as much deeply tanned skin as she could get away with. That didn’t mean she was an easy conquest, though. The girl had a metric  _ ton _ of self-respect.

This lesson, they’d been instructed to get into pairs. The creature Professor Kettleburn had brought in for them to study was no less than  _ ten _ griffins for that day. Apparently, all of them were unmated pairs, and the breeders who’d lent them to Kettleburn planned to mate them with horses in order to breed more hippogriffs. The students’ tasks were to figure out whether their griffin was male or female, without insulting it, and to  _ befriend _ it. 

James was faintly reminded of Hagrid setting him on Buckbeak’s back and sending the steel-blue hippogriff of for a flight. He just silently hoped that Kettleburn wouldn’t be quite the same level of enthusiastic. The small teen didn’t expect much, though. The professor had too many probations to count, at that point.

Pairing up with Fleamont by coincidence, James awaited further instruction with his partner over by the paddock. One of the more reddish-furred griffins was watching them with a keen, amber eye, and it made him nervous. He held his breath as the pairs were assigned their griffins.

“Ah, Mr. Granford, Mr. Potter! I see you two have paired up again! Alright, then, shall we? I think griffin number... four will work, it’s been watching you for a while. Just relax, and remember, they can be good-natured and protective if you befriend them properly!” Professor Kettleburn gushed happily, beaming at the uncomfortable duo.

Fleamont shared a  _ look _ with James, and they both shrugged. “Best get it over with, right? Who knows how long this will take, and I’d rather not be stuck here after class. I’ve got a chess match set up against Brian for a couple cases of chocolate frogs.”

James smirked. “Good luck with that, then. I’ve heard Abbott is a fair hand at chess.”

The two of them chatted amiably as they worked to figure out the griffin’s gender. The one they’d been assigned was slightly smaller than the others, and with a darker coat. Its ears were also rimmed in reddish feathers to match, so the two boys decided that it must be a female. Of course, once they were done with that, they had to make friends with the intelligent creature, as much as they could. Fleamont went to get his textbook while James gathered up the strips of meat and fish that their griffin seemed to enjoy.

“Hey, girl, you want some food?” James muttered, coaxingly. 

Those amber eyes watched his movements carefully, and her beak clicked slightly. She reminded him of Hedwig, oddly enough. James’ owl would click her beak together during pauses in between his sentences when another person would normally respond. He flashed a quick grin at the griffin, and tossed a large strip of beef into the air for the creature.

Fleamont returned, grinning at the sight, and commented, “Well, you’ve got a fair hand with the creatures yourself, Granford. How’d you get her so relaxed around you?” The griffin was lying down, pulling the meat apart with her beak and talons.

“Eh, my owl does something like what she did. I just talked to her, and fed her,” he replied.

“Hm. Can you go get Professor Kettleburn? I want to see if she’ll accept me. She truly is a beauty, with that red fur of hers.” The Potter scion was staring wistfully at their assigned griffin, and James didn’t have the heart to say no. It seemed that Fleamont might have been considering a career with magical beasts, at that point in time. 

Smiling slightly, he answered, “Sure. I’ll be right back, just remember to talk soothingly.”

“Thanks, Granford,” Fleamont replied absently, gathering up the food.

James walked back across the paddock, avoiding the other groups as he went. He spotted the professor at the far end, near the edge of the tree line, and sped up. The man was explaining something to a couple of Gryffindors, and James was trying to see what had happened so much that he stopped paying attention to his surroundings.

A sharp pain speared up his leg from his ankle, and he lurched forward into a sudden fall. Thinking he’d tripped on a tree root, his hands went out to catch him with slightly bent elbows to take the brunt of the impact. ‘Harry Hunting’ had been good for several things, and learning how to fall properly had been one of them.

As James tried to gain awareness of his surroundings, he heard a harsh screech above him and felt cold dread roll over him. One of the other groups’ griffins reared up in surprise and its talons flashed out at the small teen who was practically underneath it. Three long slashes appeared down James’ back, leaking blood almost instantly. He tugged out his wand and transfigured a stone shield from the dirt, and distantly heard several other people casting spells at roughly the same time. Before he could do anything else, his small shield was removed and he was levitated onto a stretcher, lying on his stomach. An amused giggle left his lips, and he wondered how Tom would take the news. James thought that maybe he should just stop thinking and rest. A dizzy feeling swept him up, and the levitating stretcher certainly wasn’t helping any. He resigned himself to another extended stay in the Hospital Wing, and did his best to stay conscious. He was embarrassed enough that he’d fainted last time he’d been injured.

Fleamont’s voice reached him, and he smiled as much as he was able. “Hey, Granford, you’re being taken to the Hospital Wing, okay? Charlotte and Avery got to you quick enough that you’ll be fine,” he explained. “You tripped, somehow, and one of the griffins attacked you, which was terrible to see, but ours went over and defended you! I think you passed today’s lesson with an ‘Outstanding’ because of that.”

James laughed weakly and allowed Fleamont to continue his babbling, comforted by the Gryffindor’s presence. It was nice to know his grandfather was fond enough of him to follow all the way to the Hospital Wing. The small teen focused on breathing and blocking out the pain from his injuries. It’d be healed soon enough.

  
  


The first thing that happened after the bell let out the final period was that Tom appeared in the Hospital Wing, followed closely by Druella, Nathaniel, Abraxas, Louis, and Jerod. They were there because Jerod had left the infirmary as soon as he knew James was stable, so that he could go tell Tom what had happened. Fleamont had stayed with the tiny Slytherin, and was sitting next to James’ bed, talking about the particularly spectacular Quidditch matches that had happened throughout his years at Hogwarts.

Tom reached the bed and inspected the bandages from a short distance, before leaning over to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead. “How are you doing? Do you know what happened?”

James smiled and blushed at the kiss, and answered, “I’m doing alright, as much as I can be. All I know was that I was walking one minute, the next I tripped, and then one of the griffins attacked me. I don’t know why I fell, because I’m sure there wasn’t a tree root or a stone or anything. I’m just glad I made it out of that relatively okay.”

Druella crossed her arms with a huff. “You call being clawed by a griffin  _ okay _ ?”

“Um, I did see something,” Jerod muttered anxiously.

The group turned to him for an explanation, and he said, “I didn’t see much, but he was passing my group at the time, and I noticed that James was hit with a Tripping Jinx. I don’t know who cast the spell, but I think they meant for him to be attacked. He was too close to our griffin  _ not _ to be...”

Tom’s eyes narrowed in rage. “I want to know who cast that spell.”

Reaching out to tug on Tom’s sleeve, James asked, “Can you stay with me again?”

“Of course, my little raven. Will you be able to sit up to eat, or should we wait until later to have dinner?” the taller teen asked gently, eyes filled with concern. He frowned when James replied in the negative, and turned to face the only Gryffindor in the room. “Thank you for waiting with James. Your company is most appreciated, but no longer necessary. If you wish to visit later, though, I won’t stop you.”

James snorted, and grinned at Fleamont. “Don’t take it personally, Potter. Tom’s a very possessive person. He asked to court me this morning, so we’re in a relatively new relationship. Please, do come tell me more stories later. I’d love it.”

Laughing, the Gryffindor nodded. “Alright, Riddle, I’ll back off. See you later, Granford!”

Waiting until the outsider had gone, the Slytherins settled down in their usual positions to keep their injured member company. Soon, the ward was filled with the quiet chatter of friends.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual Assault in this chapter! It will be marked by a **SA**

The week leading up to Halloween was tense. Tom and his allies had been completely unable to figure out who the perpetrator of the griffin attack was, and that made the Slytherin prefect that much more protective of his boyfriend. Due to his injuries, James was unable to go with Tom to Hogsmeade that weekend, and was disappointed that they had to cancel their very first date. Though his partner did organize the perfect breakfast in bed, it was clear that James was unhappy at the circumstances, even though he tried to hide it. It wasn’t  _ Tom’s  _ fault, after all. That wasn’t who the tiny young man was unhappy with.

Two days before Halloween, James had been released from the Hospital Wing. The nurse had told him to come back at any time if he was feeling lightheaded, dizzy, or if there were lingering pains from the injuries. She was reluctant to let him go, as any healer would have been, but since the sixth year was able to get around without trouble or re-injuring himself, she felt she had to, much to James’ joy.

Now, he was sitting in the Slytherin common room with all his friends. 

“Hey, James, what do you think of our chances winning the House Cup? It’s two months into the school year, and we’ve got a pretty big lead over everyone except Hufflepuff,” Abraxas inquired lightly. 

James rested his head on his hands, thinking. “I’m not sure. Like you said, it’s only two months into the school year, and there are a lot of things that could change the rankings pretty easily. What about Quidditch? From what I’ve heard, Ravenclaw had a damn good Seeker, and Gryffindor’s Keeper isn’t a pushover, either.”

The Malfoy heir huffed a laugh, and conceded, “You’ve got a point, I suppose.”

Smirking, Nathaniel leaned forward in his chair. “You both forget that we’ve got the best Chasers, and our Seeker can match Ravenclaw’s on a good day. I’d say it’s in the bag, this year. Both Quidditch  _ and _ House Cups.”

James shifted, shrugging. “Whatever works, I guess. What does Hogwarts do on the thirty-first? Is there anything special done to celebrate?”

Edward scowled at the ground. “Samhain is being ruined by those  _ mudbloods _ and their stupid outsider ideas!  _ Halloween _ , they call it! A time for dressing in costume and getting treats? That’s not what Samhain is, it’s supposed to be a celebration of the dead, and the start of the cold season. They make a mockery of our traditions.”

Biting his lip, James pushed further back into the couch cushions. Halloween, Samhain, October thirty-first, it was always a terrible day for him. The day his parents died, the day he was cursed to spend a childhood with the Dursleys, the troll attack, the first petrification, and that was only the beginning. He was always tense and anxious on the thirty-first. He just couldn’t help but worry about what might happen. Something always did.

Tom, noticing his discomfort, shifted closer and whispered, “Is everything alright? What’s the matter? If it’s about not knowing Samhain traditions, we can teach you, if you wish.” He took a minute to wait for an answer. James gave off a faint scent uniquely  _ his _ that smelled of wind and parchment, mixed with the wild feeling of his raw magic. The wild feeling always turned into a sharp tingle when the teen was anxious, trying to convey the emotions James hid. The smaller teen’s magic was sharp and aggressive towards external forces, and that was confirmation enough that there was something wrong.

James shrugged again, unsure of how to answer. “It would seem silly. It’s nothing.”

“James,” Tom cautioned, voice low. 

A deep breath to calm himself, and the green-eyed boy admitted, “Something bad always happens to me on Samhain. Always. I’m just worried about what’s going to happen  _ this  _ time, since I’m in a new place I’m generally unfamiliar with. Anything could go wrong...”

When an arm wrapped around his waist, James smiled gratefully at his boyfriend. Tom was surprisingly good at comforting others. There was a silent understanding between them that the taller boy would be there to support him in case of trouble, no matter what happened. It was just reassuring enough for James to give in and relax a bit, magic settling. Maybe this year, nothing would happen.

  
  


It was the last day of October, and James had been jumpy and trigger-happy the entire day, from waking up to classes, to meal times, and more. It being a Sunday, he wanted to go to the library and research more on defensive and offensive grey spells. James was hesitant about venturing into the Dark Arts, even if he knew he’d never use them for simple torture or murder in cold blood. The one thing the teen had to admit though, was that his magic was naturally inclined towards grey and dark grey spells. It was easier to cast, and more powerful, than light magic, with the exception of the Patronus Charm. 

After a delicious lunch and some time spent talking with Abraxas and the Blacks about politics, he’d began the long trek back to the library for more research. Hermione would have been so proud at the effort he was putting in to become more knowledgeable. The corridors were empty for the most part, with the majority of the student body enjoying the nice, cool weather while it lasted. It would start snowing soon, and for the time being, the cool temperature was delightful to the student body. 

Taking a less populated route was a risk. James knew about nearly all the secrets the school held, in terms of passageways and hidden rooms, but  _ no one _ could know  _ everything _ about Hogwarts Castle. It was pretty much impossible to explore it all in a lifetime, let alone the seven years the students spent there. Therefore, when a set of hand reached out from a side passage James didn’t know about, he was taken by surprise.

As he struggled, the small teen heard a muttered  _ silencio _ , and his muffled shouts were cut off as he was completely silenced. There was more than one person, as he could see just enough in the dark to notice there was someone in front of him and another behind him, as his hands were wrestled behind his back and bound tightly. Rope chafed his wrists, and James tried to kick out at his attackers as they dragged him further down the passageway. 

**SA**

As the way grew lighter, and he could see his attackers more clearly, James had been momentarily stunned into complacency by the revelation of their identities. Straight black hair and brown eyes, the person leading the way was  _ Alexander Lestrange _ . One of Tom’s allies. As he saw the rest of them, he was even more shocked. The fifth year Slytherin, Greengrass, was there, along with a Ravenclaw girl and two Ravenclaw boys. One of them he knew as a fellow sixth year, Lexus Kimberly. They were all looking smug, and anytime their eyes landed on James, lust or anger was reflected there. The anger reminded him of his uncle.

When the group finally reached their destination, James took in his surroundings as best he could. They were in a small room, and there was a thick layer of dust covering the desks and most of the floor. It was obviously an abandoned classroom, one that hadn’t been used in at least a decade. His heart fell at the thought. If no one had been in there in years, nobody would be able to find and rescue him.

The Ravenclaw girl cast a cleaning spell to get rid of the dust, and faced the small teen with a malicious grin. “Well, well, well~! Look at what we have here, boys! It’s that arrogant little bastard who thinks  _ he _ can just waltz in and steal Riddle.”

“Not to mention a good amount of power in Slytherin,” Greengrass sneered.

Alexander grimaced, and conjured more rope. “Do what you want. I’m just here to make sure everything goes smoothly. Make sure there are privacy wards up before you unsilence him, and take his wand before you do anything else. He’s a fair dueler.”

Kimberly and Greengrass shoved him onto a desk, stomach down and feet just barely touching the floor. The unknown Ravenclaw boy tied James’ ankles to the legs of the desk and took his wand over to Lestrange. The Ravenclaw girl was watching with near ecstasy, enjoying the pained expressions on their prey’s face as the ropes tore at his skin.

Once the privacy wards were up, and James was unsilenced, he asked, “What are you doing?! You  _ know _ you can’t get away with this, right?”

“Oh, honey, you have no idea what you’re in for, do you?” the girl asked mockingly. “Well, Kimberly and Greengrass are bisexual, Knowles is gay, and all three want a piece of your ass. It’s humiliation, Granford. We wanted to... teach you your place. When we’re done with you, you’ll never go against us again.”

Eyes filled with terror, James renewed his struggles as Kimberly approached him. Rough lips pressed against his own, violently, biting him, fighting to gain entrance. The girl hopped off the desk she was sitting on and strolled over. A quick punch to his side, and James was gasping for breath, allowing Kimberly’s tongue to force its way inside his mouth. This kiss felt so different from the ones James shared with Tom. The foreign tongue was being shoved so far into his mouth that he was gagging, feeling violated and dirty. It was so disgusting and horrible that the small teen almost missed the set of hands at his hips, undoing his trousers. 

Panic rushed through James, fear for more than his life welled up inside him. Slowly, too slowly to bear, inches of skin were revealed as his trousers slid down. Soon, his entire arse was exposed, and then the top of his thighs, and then his knees. Finally, when it stopped, his trousers were bunched up around his lower calves and ankles. 

James shook in place, unable to stop what was happening to him. He felt someone trail their fingers delicately along his lower spine. Hands parted his cheeks, and as Kimberly pulled back, he felt something slick press at his entrance. Whoever decided to prepare him wasn’t being particularly gentle, and he felt the burning pain as a second finger joined the first to stretch him, but James  _ was _ grateful that they were at least willing to prepare him a bit in the first place. The alternative was too much to consider.

Suddenly, the fingers were removed, and something  _ else _ pressed against his slightly stretched hole. It felt so huge compared to the two fingers, and James shouted, “No! Stop, please, it’s not going to fit!”

The head of the cock passed the first ring of muscles, tearing him slightly, and tears sprung to James’ eyes as he let out a scream of pain. Suddenly, another cock was shoved into his open mouth and he choked, trying to breath. Both pressed in harshly, causing more pain as James cried and shook. There were twin moans from above him, and as the two teens began thrusting into the small, thin body between them. 

Greengrass groaned as the pulsing heat enveloped him, nearly coming on the first thrust. The tiny teen’s arse was so tight and hot, tugging at his cock as he pulled back, as if trying to keep him sheathed inside. Vincent knew he hadn’t prepared their prey  _ nearly _ enough to avoid doing damage, but as his thrusts sped up and he held those delicate hips in a bruising grip, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

On the other side, Kimberly grinned to himself as he pressed himself into that talented mouth. The Ravenclaw knew that James hadn’t wanted to kiss him, but fighting back had only made the kiss better for the other student. Now, the wet mouth and tongue slid deliciously over the head of his dick as he shoved it further into the boy. Going far enough in with one particularly brutal thrust, he felt the teen’s throat spasm around his cock and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His pace sped up, and soon he was facefucking the delicate boy, hungrily gazing at those swollen lips wrapped around his shaft. 

As Kimberly’s pace quickened, James was pressed harshly back on Vincent’s cock. He wanted to scream and cry out in pain as Vincent reacted to the extra force, pounding into the abused hole with all the strength he could muster. The Slytherin watched Kimberly’s face as the Ravenclaw came, pouring cum down James’ throat and forcing him to swallow. That tipped Vincent over the edge, and his thrusts became erratic. With one final push, he sheathed himself fully inside that tight heat and came, painting the teen’s insides white. 

Coming down from their high, both attackers pulled out and stumbled away to collapse against desks, panting in exhaustion. Vincent grinned at Kimberly. Both of them were flushed and spent, having thoroughly fucked James to completion. 

Stretching, Alistor Knowles walked over to where the teen was bound, sobbing and coughing. A harsh laugh echoed around the room as he dropped his pants and stroked himself to hardness, preparing for his own turn. James stared at Alexander in a silent plea for help, aware that another round would be past unbearable. The other Slytherin watched on with a stony expression, unwilling to participate, but also unwilling to stop it.

Alistor grabbed James’ waist and positioned himself, impaling the slightly older teen on his dick and setting a harsh, unforgiving pace right from the start. Now that nothing was blocking his mouth, James was able to scream and cry his pain to the world. It was a fast, hard fuck that brought Alistor to completion, and the small teen was immensely relieved that it was over.

They untied him, letting him slide to the floor. James found his legs didn’t have the strength to support him. He watched morosely as Kimberly wandered over, smirking. The next action the Ravenclaw took shocked him into silence again, quieting his sobs. 

Kimberly knelt in between James’ legs, hands reaching for the small teen’s half-hard cock. He smirked as he stroked it to hardness and enjoyed the sobbing moans James was unable to prevent. When his prey was practically screaming again, he went down and took his member all in one go, earning a choked exclamation from the green-eyed boy. Kimberly continued sucking James off until the boy came with a curse, and then swallowed his entire load.

**SA**

There was cold, mocking laughter as James pulled back, curling into a ball. The group tossed his clothes at him, leaving the wand on top of the desk he’d been bound to earlier. The Ravenclaw girl stalked over to him and knelt down.

“Hey, Granford.” She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Remember that this is what happens when you go where you aren’t invited. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll  _ leave _ Hogwarts,  _ permanently. _ ”

James let out a whimper as she dropped his head, and he watched the group leave the room, tearing down the privacy wards as the went. 

How could he face his friends now?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Slurs used in this chapter.
> 
> \- - I also edited and rewrote chunks of story from Chapter Sixteen on, so be aware - -

It was over an hour before James had enough energy to pull his clothes on and stand up. He wobbled over to the desk, relieved that they had left him his wand. His backside was leaking come after having two loads shot inside, and he felt ready to throw up any minute, but unwilling to see white mixed with the vomit just yet. 

_ “What am I going to do...?” _ James thought mournfully.

He couldn’t face his friends like this. He  _ definitely _ didn’t want to show his face around Tom after being dirtied by those... those  _ bastards _ . He felt unclean and disgusting. The whole mess seemed to be his own fault, even though, logically, he knew it wasn’t. What little worth remaining James thought he’d held had been stripped away in one fell swoop by four teenage boys and an evil little bitch. 

After casting several cleaning charms, James tried to keep it together long enough to work out a good place to hide. There was one place in the school no one else could get to, if he didn’t want them to. The Room of Requirement. He clutched his robes to his chest and made for the door, staggering up to the seventh floor as fast as he could. 

He’d made it to the tapestry and paced three times, stomach rebelling viciously, hands shaking, before he could claim the room as a safe haven. It opened up to resemble his Gryffindor dorm room, with an open doorway to a single-person bathroom. 

James dashed for the toilet. He’d just barely reached it when the contents of his stomach decided to make a reappearance, splashing into the water in a mix of sickly green and viscous white. The sight of that, and the knowledge that it’d been in his  _ stomach _ , made the poor boy heave into the toilet again. 

Sitting with his face on the toilet seat, miserable, the raven-haired boy finally let go and cried. For himself, the loss of what little innocence he had, and for what he felt he’d become.

  
  


Tom scanned the Great Hall, eyes flicking back to the wooden doors every few minutes. He’d waited for James in the common room, until he was nearly late for dinner, and then spent a few minutes searching the table for the green-eyed boy once he’d reached the dining hall. Though most of his Slytherin compatriots were there, James was suspiciously absent. Given the teen’s statement that something bad always happened to him on Samhain, the prefect felt it was perfectly normal to be concerned.

“Druella, have you seen James anywhere?” Tom inquired, delicately nibbling on a bite of turkey breast. His plate was loaded with more food and much unhealthier food than he normally allowed himself to eat; such meals were reserved for holidays, after all.

The blonde girl frowned unhappily, clearly worried. “I haven’t seen him since lunch. He was going back to the library, but James isn’t one to lose track of time, even while reading about something particularly interesting.”

Alexander appeared next to the group with an uncomfortable expression on his face. He nodded to them all, and explained, “Sorry I’m late, I had to put some homework and textbooks back in my dorm.” He paused and looked around the group. “Hey, where’s Granford?”

Silently, Alex hoped to himself that they would take the hints he was leaving them. During and after their attack on the transfer student, he’d been swamped with guilt and nausea for what he’d done, been an accomplice to. The Lestrange heir would never be able to redeem himself for that, he knew. Some things were just too far. The least he could do would be get the others searching in the correct area.

“No one knows,” Louis replied, frowning.

“That’s... odd. Isn’t he usually stuck to Tom or Druella like glue?” Alex questioned, glancing at the two people he’d mentioned. His lord seemed distracted and concerned, though he hid it well. Druella, on the other hand, wore a completely open expression that made her worry incredibly obvious. 

Tom sighed. “That’s what concerns me. Have you seen him today, at all?”

Alex nodded in reply. “I passed him in the hall, on the way back from the library. I wonder where he could have gone?”

Straightening in his seat, Tom commanded, “Once the feast is over, we search for him. Given how often he’s been hexed and cursed over the past two months, it is reasonable to assume James could be in trouble.”

No one objected, all in silent agreement. 

  
  


James stirred briefly, long enough to limp back into the main room and collapse on the large, plush bed the Room had provided. Tears welled in his eyes as he lay there, despondent. He didn’t have enough energy to get up again. He felt words resonating in his mind, words his cousin had shouted at him before. Words his uncle had practically beaten into his body. Freak. Whore. Fag. They were right. He was a waste of space. He was only good for stress relief. He was... he was...

The lights in the room dimmed, and the candles blew out. Hogwarts mourned for the child who had been so violated within her walls. As James slept, his true friends searched and searched for their missing companion. It would be some time before they found him.

  
  


The school staff were put on high alert after Tom and Nathaniel went to Slughorn and Headmaster Dippet about James Granford’s disappearance. A full twenty-four hours since the Samhain feast passed, and the Slytherins as a whole became anxious. Classes with them were tense as the House responded to its most influential members’ moods and worry. Some students in the other three Houses realized just  _ why _ Tom Riddle and his companions were so unhappy and tense. James Granford was not often seen away from the Slytherin prefect, outside of classes. Word spread, and after another twenty-four hours, James still hadn’t appeared. 

  
  


Wind rattled the glass panes. The Room of Requirement had become a shelter for James in his depression, offering windows to stare out of, a pile of warm blankets to burrow into and ignore the world with. He knew that it was wrong to hide away from the school, but the small teen couldn’t bring himself to leave his safe haven.

It took until Tuesday for the green-eyed boy to get up the energy to take a shower. James thought the dirty feeling making his skin crawl would have made him move earlier, but it hadn’t proved enough of a motivator, apparently. Skin was scrubbed red. He cringed at the sight of his member hardening as he washed it, forcefully reminded of Kimberly sucking him off,  _ making _ him enjoy the experience. It made him sick, and he nearly threw up in the shower. The only thing he had in his stomach to throw up was the acid, though. The thought of eating made him feel ill, and so he ignored the cramping in his abdomen and stayed hidden away. 

_ “I wish I had Hedwig to talk to...” _ James thought, gazing at the cloudy sky.  _ “She was always the closest friend I had. I wonder if a Familiar Bond developed between the two of us. My new owl isn’t the same.” _

The small teen desperately hoped that he’d eventually find a way back to his own time, given the recent attack. No one back home would have even guessed such a thing happened to him, too caught up in the image of the ‘Savior’ he portrayed. He missed his owl, and he missed some of his friends, like Luna, Neville, and Hermione.

Ron and he always had issues. Though surprised he hadn’t missed the redhead, James was able to admit that it was probably because of how biased against Slytherins and dark magic the youngest Weasley son was. Ron had grown up quite a bit over fifth year, but there was still that immature side of him that was lazy and easily made jealous. In a few years, the other teen would be an amazing companion and friend. For the time being, Ron was just too self-absorbed to be counted as one of James’ few best friends.

Now, though, the green-eyed boy was stuck in the year 1942, struggling through the crushing aftermath of being sexually assaulted.  _ “No, that’s... I need to be honest with myself. That was flat-out rape.” _ He buried his face in his hands, pressing on his closed eyes.

The sun was sinking, slowly, and James wondered,  _ “Should I leave? I’m dirty, worthless, but my friends don’t deserve to worry over me.”  _ He glanced at the door, innocently waiting to let him out, back into reality.  _ “Tom... he’ll be furious if I keep hiding.” _

Decision made, James gathered his robes, slipped on his socks and shoes, and mentally braced himself. He had been a Gryffindor. He had the necessary bravery to face his friends, no matter how fucked-up he was. 

Anxiously, he opened the door.

  
  


Tom was pacing in Slughorn’s office, very obviously unhappy, and very obviously worried. The professor watched him without comment, feeling every one of his years weighing down upon him. Their inability to find the missing student caused his heart to ache.

James Granford was a wonderful student, and the Slytherin Head of House had been overjoyed to have the child in his classes. James had done well in Potions, improving rapidly under Slughorn’s tutelage, and showed true talent for brewing. The small sixth year earned plenty of points for Slytherin, and his grades were impressive, to say the least. All of this made Horace much fonder of James than most people would guess. The boy was so kind, so sweet and polite.

It also hurt him to see Tom Riddle so... unhinged. His favorite student’s temper became more volatile the more time passed with no sign of James. Tom could commonly be seen stalking the halls after-hours, taking on more rounds and venturing to parts of the school that were rarely traveled. The sixth year Slytherins had followed his lead, and Slughorn was ruefully proud of them for the immense effort they put in.

A rough, urgent knock brought the man out of his thoughts. Tom spun to face the door, opening it with an absent flick of his wand. Eileen Prince, a second year, stood in the doorway and panted, trying to catch her breath. Slughorn waved her inside, towards one of the armchairs he had next to the fireplace. She sat down with a relieved sigh.

“Sirs,” she panted, “Granford... he’s been found! He’s being escorted to the Hospital Wing, right now– I was sent to tell you, please, sirs...” 

Tom has disappeared as soon as she gave the location, and Professor Slughorn was left to calm the girl down. “Thank you, my dear, thank you! Please, have some tea and recover your breath. You may wait in my office for my return, or go back to the common room.” He cast a very grateful smile her way. “Your effort is much appreciated, Ms. Prince.”

The man gently closed the door as he left, casting his usual alert ward to tell him if anyone approached his office. The thought of James being escorted to the Hospital Wing left a foul taste in his mouth, but he supposed that two days without food would be enough to make anyone think the child was ill. Hopefully he was in no worse condition than that.

When Horace reached his destination, he entered the infirmary slowly, unwilling to intrude upon Tom’s conversation, if he was having one. He spotted the intimidating young man standing next to a bed, the curtain half-drawn. There was no sound, so he approached.

“Tom? Is Mr. Granford doing alright?” he called, worried. 

The teen turned and stared, face completely expressionless. The sight of James was certainly off-putting, to say the least. The child had dark circles under his eyes, and his face looked more gaunt than when the man had last seen him. He had raw, chapped lips and dull eyes, but at least he was aware and responding to outside stimulus.

“What happened?” Tom had turned back, whispering his question softly. 

James’ only answer was a flinch, avoiding the taller boy’s eyes. Tom reached out, slowly and making an obvious gesture out of it to not startle the small teen. His hand gently rested on the soft cheek, and he could feel the jaw clench under his fingers.

Sighing, Tom let his hand card through messy, ungroomed hair. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened, James. Trust me not to judge you?”

James let out a quiet sniffle, and leaned into Tom’s soothing hand. He tried to speak, and managed, “I-I-I was... att...” His throat was sore from how much he’d vomited over the past two days, only having stomach acid and saliva to throw up. It burned, but he wanted to meet Tom’s expectations. He didn’t want to be thought of as weak.

“They... I was...” James coughed lightly, eyes watering. “... rape,” he gasped out, accepting the offered glass of water. It provided an excuse to avoid elaborating, and a way to conveniently observe Tom’s and the professor’s reactions.

Professor Slughorn paled in an instant, and James felt slightly guilty about how the man must feel because of his admittance. Tom, though, Tom was outwardly calm. The only signs he was feeling  _ anything _ were the sudden clenching of fists and rage flashing in his grey eyes. The small teen shook slightly at the thought of what Tom would do.

“Who.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. The young man’s magic burst out violently for a moment. It whipped around him, leaving cracks in the places it touched, just barely reigned in enough to avoid completely destroying everything. None of the wild magic touched James, but the professor wasn’t so lucky. His robes ripped slightly and he was shoved back a few feet, landing ungracefully on his arse.

James couldn’t speak in the face of such fury. He knew that Tom wouldn’t hurt  _ him _ , and completely trusted that it was the truth. Still, it was hard. 

Tom was gradually gathering his magic and drawing it back, controlling and compressing the raw power he exhibited. When it was finally contained, he apologized, “I was not expecting an answer like that. I’m sorry if I scared you, my little raven. Please, tell me who hurt you.”

There was a mournful quality echoing in the taller boy’s voice, and James swallowed thickly, nodding. “Alright. Alright.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: References to sexual abuse and rape in this chapter.

Both Tom and Slughorn held their breath, waiting for answers. James looked tense and anxious in the large hospital bed. The people who had attacked him had influenced his thoughts and behavior, implanting ideas in his head and stripping away the self-worth he’d built up since the beginning of the school year. The thought of admitting his weakness to Tom brought his nausea back to the surface, back to his attention, but the other boy had outright  _ told _ him he wouldn’t be judged in this instance. He should trust Tom. He  _ did _ trust him. When James spoke, his voice was low enough that only Tom would hear.

“K-Kimberly. Greengr... Greengrass, and Knowles. Mason, Sera Mason was in ch-charge of it. Alex watched, Tom.” James’ eyes were begging with helplessness. “He-he watched it happen. He was there.”

Tom stiffened. He stared straight into James’ eyes, and the small teen felt a gentle, almost questioning, probing at his mental shields. Obligingly, James pushed forward the memory of when he first saw their faces. At least he could do  _ that _ much without revealing any of the violation he’d experienced. James received a curt nod and a kiss on his knuckles for his trouble, and Tom was gone, leaving to track down and  _ punish _ five students.

Professor Slughorn gathered his wits and stepped up to the bed with a myriad of burning questions at the tip of his tongue. He was, quite frankly, horrified by the admission his transfer student had made. Nothing like that had happened since well before Horace became Head of Slytherin House, and for good reason. Every occasion in the past where a student had been the victim of rape, the perpetrator or perpetrators had been tried as adults and sentenced to at least two years in Azkaban as punishment. It seemed that he had a Floo Call to make, after getting further details from the poor child.

“James... oh, my dear child,  _ James _ ...” the professor gasped hoarsely. 

Those viridian eyes met his with resignation. “Yes, professor?”

He shivered slightly at the emotionless voice, but pressed on anyway. “James, can you tell me who’s responsible for the... attack? I...  _ we _ need to know, in order to appropriately punish them for their crime. I promise you that this isn’t something the staff will simply brush off. I will personally ensure that all perpetrators are brought to justice, if you will let me.”

“I’m sorry, professor, but I just can’t.”

That threw him. He gazed intently at James’ expression, but the boy gave nothing away. Helping this young man was his current goal, and he would do all he could, but without that information, it was impossible. He  _ had _ to get his student to realize that.

“I can’t do anything without names, or even descriptions, if that’s all you can give me,” he pressed anxiously. “Please, my dear child, if not for yourself, allow me to protect others from them! I cannot in good conscience allow rapists to go free. They were able to assault you, what’s to stop them from attacking another?”

His hands tightened in his lap as he pleaded, “Let me do my job, James! Allow me to protect the students,  _ please _ .”

James stared morosely at Slughorn. “I don’t want anyone to know what happened.”

“If I keep the cause of their removal from school secret, are you willing to tell me?” the man asked in surprise, hope lacing his voice.

“... yes. Will you?”

“Of course, my b– James, of course! I give you my word as a Potions Master, I shall not reveal what caused their removal to anyone in the school, save Headmaster Dippet and the other Heads of Houses. Will that do?”

“Thank you...” James muttered, smiling sadly. He didn’t want people to look at him with pity or disgust because he was too weak to defend himself on one specific occasion. “I guess you’ll want those names, now.”

“That I will, my dear child, that I will! Do you wish for a privacy ward to be erected?” the professor asked, earnest in his attempt to comfort the small sixth year. He saw James flinch at the words ‘privacy ward’ when he spoke, and wondered at that. Had his attackers used one, or taunted him with it?

“S-Sorry, sir,” James whispered hoarsely, grimacing. His mind was whirling with fresh memories brought up by the mention of the ward. “Yes, please. I’m sorry you’ve got to go to so much trouble because of me.”

Horace frowned, and offered a Calming Draught to him. “It’s no trouble at all, James, I mean it! You deserve to feel safe when discussing something as foul as this. Just give me a moment to set it up.”

Waving his wand in a frighteningly familiar complex pattern, the professor cast the ward as a bubble encompassing the edges of the open curtains on both sides of the small, sectioned off area, providing a protected place for them to speak. James shivered at the tingling magic, but smiled slightly at the warm feeling it gave him. Professor Slughorn had always been kind to him, and it showed now, more than ever.

“It’s set, James. Tell me whatever you wish, and I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” the professor stated firmly, much to the small teen’s happiness. 

“Thank you, sir,” he began, breathing deeply. The Calming Draught had helped greatly in soothing his anxieties about this talk and cleared his thoughts. That, combined with his meager ability in Occlumency, was enough to work his way through the haze of emotions.

He lifted his wrists, the white bandages on them concealing ointment-covered rope burns and scrapes that had bled. “I was ambushed on my way to the Great Hall. I was at the library, as I wanted to read more on some interesting topics. They... it was really dark. There was a secret passageway, and I was taken by surprise. I couldn’t– I couldn’t  _ see _ , because it was so dark, and someone silenced me, and then my hands were tied, and it was so  _ terrifying _ , I just couldn’t breathe, and I started to panic, and–”

“James! Take deep breaths, the Calming Draught can only do so much,” Horace quietly cautioned. He was gripping the teen’s thin shoulder delicately, but firmly. James was getting too caught up in his memories to speak about them.

The raven-haired boy listened and did as commanded. Continuing, he said, “Sorry. So... they tied my hands, and I couldn’t call for help as they dragged me down the dark passage. It was fairly long, at least I think it was, but I could be wrong. When it started getting light... I saw my attackers for the first time.”

James had thought long and hard about whether or not to tell anyone who’d done it. He came to the conclusion that since Alexander hadn’t actually touched him, Tom’s punishment would be enough for the boy. He just wanted to be away from the other Slytherin until he could come to terms with what happened. It's not as if it was the first time someone just stood by and watched while he was tormented. Greengrass... he couldn’t ruin the Greengrass’ reputation. He knew there was a Daphne Greengrass in his year, back in his own time. She was completely innocent of any of this, and if he gave away Greengrass, he’d be outing a fellow Slytherin. Daphne had never been cruel to him like some of her House. Again, Tom had more than enough skill to appropriately punish the boy for what he did. Greengrass would never again even  _ look _ at anyone the wrong way, and that was enough for James.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about any of the Ravenclaw students, though. Mason had... orchestrated the whole thing, in his mind. She was so obviously the ringleader, giving out orders and taunting him, telling him that he was intruding. Touching herself while he sobbed and cried for help. The other two boys, James couldn’t remember anyone of those surnames in any of the years at Hogwarts, his time. Nothing held him back from sending them to an official punishment. He would readily admit that he could care less about their safety.

“I recognized one of them immediately. Lexus Kimberly, he’s a Ravenclaw in my year. The other two told me their names later. Sera Mason and Alistor Knowles. All three took part, in different ways. They... Kimberly was the worst.” James shuddered at the phantom pain burning in his lungs, the feeling of choking. The memory of when he first threw up, that white mixed in with stomach acid and food... he couldn’t say it out loud. And then, and  _ then _ , that  _ bastard _ made him  _ enjoy _ it! “He– I had to– Kimberly made me  _ enjoy  _ it! He sucked me off, after they were done!”

Tears were streaming down his face as he shouted what he was the most ashamed of. “He made me  _ enjoy _ the blowjob he forced on me! I  _ liked  _ it! And I  _ hated it, so fucking much! _ I’m so weak, I couldn’t even fight  _ that! _ Why? Why did they do it?!”

James came to full awareness as he realized he was gripping the green lapels of his professor’s robe. His shaking hands released their hold, and Horace slowly pushed the small teen back into his pillow, fingers briefly combing through his hair in a calming gesture. It gave James cool relief. The professor wasn’t too disgusted to touch him.

Clearing his throat, Horace comforted, “It was your body’s natural reaction to that kind of stimulus, James. You didn’t want it, and he knew that. It was still rape, and that your body chose to enjoy it is  _ not _ your fault, my child. I can’t answer why they would do such a thing, but nothing makes such actions right.”

“But...”

“No buts! James, someone can kill in self-defense. Someone can steal to eat, or lie in order to stay safe, or manipulate others to do things that would  _ prevent _ harm. Nearly all crimes can be justified, but rape is  _ never _ justifiable. Nothing in this world can make it right. If someone was under the Imperius Curse and raped someone else, then it would be the caster who held the blame, but it is still unjustifiable,” Slughorn explained fiercely. “I never want to hear another protest on the subject. No one has perfect control of all their body’s reactions, after all.”

James chuckled wetly, and wiped his face. “Alright, sir. I understand.”

“Good! I will inform the Headmaster immediately, and the aurors will be on their way as soon as they can. They’ll probably require a statement from you, though I will do my best to answer all of their questions myself. Is that alright?” the professor asked.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, for everything you’ve done.” James smiled weakly at the man.

“Nonsense, James, it’s my job!” Horace protested. “Besides, you are a wonderful young man who deserves better than this. I’ve grown fond of you since you became one of my charges, and you have impressive talents. Just promise me you won’t waste them, and I’ll consider it even, how about that?”

The teen laughed at the cheeky wink the man sent him before removing the privacy ward. The professor gave a jaunty wave as he departed, pleased to make James happier, if only for a moment. The boy really needed more things to laugh about, in his opinion. 

James watched him go, finally relaxing and clearing his mind, allowing the Calming Draught to reach its full potency. He never regretted being sorted into Slytherin in this period. It had brought him Tom, a Head of House who actually listened to him, and more friends who liked him for his true self. Even with the bad, James couldn’t regret his decision, and with those comforting thoughts swirling around in his mind, he drifted off to sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Excessive violence and mild torture in this chapter.

The last rays of sunlight streamed through the windows in the late evening. Tom strode quickly through the halls, magic crackling around him, outwardly violent and unforgiving. Anyone who crossed his path hastened to get away, unused to such displays from the normally calm and polite young man. A few of the people he passed even froze in terror at his murderous eyes and slightly twitching fingers. His approach to the Slytherin common room was unveiled and destructive, leaving broken glass and cracked stone in his wake.

The password to the common room barely slowed him down, and his heavy magic filled the room before he was even fully inside. Everyone present felt it. As their eyes snapped up to his, their bodies turning to face him, the enraged Slytherin stopped and seeked the face of those he came to find. Those he came to confront.

“Alexander.” Tom’s voice was frigid, and the brown-eyed teen winced. “Greengrass. You two will accompany Nathaniel, Abraxas, and I to our destination.” 

He watched on in silence as his two most loyal and trusted allies rose to their feet in rapid obedience, nodding slightly at both to acknowledge them. Alexander stumbled a bit as he stood, but that was only because of the speed at which he tried to complete his lord’s command. The Greengrass heir stood, expression haughty, and sneered. 

Nathaniel took note of it, and barked at him, “Don’t push your luck, Greengrass. Whatever you’ve done is bad enough without adding to it.” 

Soft hissing filled the room, the snakes in the portraits reacting to Tom’s increasing rage. It terrified the younger years, and Tom’s court sunk deeper into their seats as they realized just how enraged their lord really was. Druella had the urge to join the group when they left, but she refrained. Tom hadn’t requested her presence, and therefore, it was not her place.

As the door to the common room clicked shut, the room’s occupants couldn’t help but feel overwhelming apprehension.

  
  


Tom had led them to their usual meeting room, and through another door into a small, stone chamber beyond that. Alex knew exactly what was going on, but Greengrass seemed so stupidly oblivious, or overconfident, that the Lestrange boy almost worried for the fifth year. Both Nathaniel and Abraxas were silent as they waited for further orders from Tom. 

“Do you know...  _ why _ you are here?” Tom asked, his words dripping with venom.

Alex swallowed thickly, but nodded anyway. He wasn’t stupid. “Yes, my lord.”

Greengrass sneered again, and drawled, “Of course not, Riddle.”

All three of Tom’s followers tensed at the clear disrespect the blonde boy was showing to him. Almost too fast to follow, the dark-haired prefect drew his wand and flicked it at Greengrass, casting a nonverbal curse. There was a harsh snap, and the boy cried out in pain, collapsing to the ground, clutching his left leg. 

_ “Only a Bone-Breaking Curse? Tom’s going easy on him,” _ Nathaniel thought to himself.

“Care to try again, Greengrass?” Tom sneered back, baring his teeth. 

The pained expression on the boy’s face twisted into one of cautious fear, and he whispered, “S-Sorry, Riddle. No, I d-don’t know why I’m here.” He blanched as Tom’s wand was directed to his forehead, sudden terror rising in him. This person could do any number of things to him and wouldn’t care. Vincent would mean nothing to Riddle, neither his death nor his pain would cause even the slightest discomfort.

A brief pause was filled with the sounds of breathing. Tom narrowed his eyes at the boy on the ground, and clicked his tongue. “Disappointing. You really are disappointing, Greengrass. What made you think you could get away with what you did? Really, it was inevitable I’d find out. James is  _ mine _ , after all.”

Then, Vincent’s blood ran cold, and the realization crashed down around him. “Oh, gods.”

“Mm, indeed,” Tom drawled, inspecting his wand carefully, not watching the younger Slytherin at all. Anger bubbled up in his mind, gripping his thoughts with a chokehold. “If you can tell me,  _ honestly _ , everything you dared doing to my sweet, innocent, little raven, I  _ may _ have some semblance of mercy on you.”

At this point, both Abraxas and Nathaniel had figured out what was going on. Greengrass committed a crime against James, somehow, and may have been part of the reason their newest friend was missing. Nate bit his lip to keep from grinning at how frightened the guilty party looked at that moment. He wasn’t entirely a sadist, but if Greengrass had done something to James, the boy deserved it.

Vincent shuddered at Tom’s words. Still, it was the best chance he had. “I... we wanted to teach Granford his place...” he mumbled, the words getting stuck in his throat. 

“Louder.”

“We wanted to teach Granford his place...” Vincent stated, complying. 

“And what place is that, pray tell?”

“... under us.”

Tom clenched his jaw, trying to keep calm enough to continue. He had to get the full story from the filth that attacked his precious James. The small teen would never admit to everything that had happened to him, certainly not to someone he respected as much as Tom. It would be impossible to get it out of him without invading his mind. “Continue.”

“We... I wanted to...”

Nathaniel stepped forward, crouching in front of the boy. “Wanted to  _ what? _ ” he asked sharply. His blue eyes pinned Vincent’s with a glacial stare.

“I wanted to fuck him,” the boy admitted, recoiling as Tom’s magic flared up in rage. It was impressive, but also one of the most horrifying things he’d ever seen. He couldn’t stop there, though, or it would be worse for him later. “We tied him to a d-desk, and I prepared him a bit before doing it.”

It was Abraxas this time, who asked, “Did  _ what _ , Greengrass? What,  _ exactly _ , did you do to James? A completely defenseless student you had  _ tied down _ and at your mercy?”

The air was thick and heavy. “I raped him. I fucked him and came inside of him and I wasn’t gentle or slow, either,” Vincent snapped, almost shouting, face turned towards the floor. He knew what he’d done was wrong. He’d known that the entire time, from start to finish, but it hadn’t made him guilty, and he still wasn’t. He was simply afraid of what Riddle would do to him if he didn’t show remorse. “Kimberly facefucked Granford, and that just made it better for me. It was messed up, but I did it anyway!”

A burst of pain hit him, causing Vincent to arch up in agony. Waves of fire burned down his spine and through his limbs, attacking every single nerve in his body. His muscles seized up and his screams were cut short into choking gasps. The break in his leg was so much worse, put under the immense pain by whatever spell had caused it.  

Tom watched on in cruel, sadistic satisfaction. Releasing the wandless  _ crucio _ , he stared down at Vincent with a curious expression. “Are you aware that I’m a  _ very _ possessive person, Greengrass? I don’t like people touching what’s  _ mine,  _ and James Elric Granford is  _ mine. _ He belongs to  _ me _ , he gave  _ me _ permission to court him,  _ me _ his affections,  _ me _ his  _ secrets _ . You dared to touch what was mine, and against James’ will. You hurt my little raven, Greengrass, and you  _ will _ pay for your transgressions. The only question is...  _ how _ will you pay?”

Vincent gasped, catching his breath, and begged, “P-P-Please! I’ll do...  _ anything _ , just d-don’t k-kill... don’t k-kill me!” He faced Tom, eyes meeting the prefect’s. “I’ll be your personal s-servant, I’ll do your homework, I-I’ll pay you! Anything!”

The sadistic teen turned to glance at his two lieutenants. “Nathaniel, Abraxas. What do  _ you _ think I should do with this sorry excuse for a wizard?”

“My lord, I believe you  _ should _ make him your lowly servant. His political standing could prove useful, since his family is a neutral one. Of course, the decision is yours, in the end, my lord, I would not presume to give you any commands,” Abraxas answered, bowing slightly deeper to indicate his sincerity.

Nate snorted, and crossed his arms. “Abraxas is right about him being too useful to our cause to get rid of him. He’s got no little amount of wealth, either. He could fund some of our more... expensive ventures. Riskier investing, and the like.”

“Hm. You both have valid points. The deciding factor will be James, and Greengrass isn’t off the hook _ , _ but given how naturally kind-hearted my raven is, I don’t believe we’ll be receiving any input from him on this one’s… punishment,” Tom decided. “Greengrass. You will serve as an assistant to the Knights of Walpurgis, my... court, here in Slytherin. Should you perform admirably, I may allow you leave from the position at the end of your schooling. If not... well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Taking the hint from the older students’ deference to Riddle, Vincent leaned towards the floor in a shaky bow and whispered, “Y-Yes, my lord, of c-course. I will do w-w-whatever you say, m-my lord.”

A flick of his wrist sent burning waves of pain rushing through Vincent, each separate nerve shrieking in agony. Tom watched coldly, holding his target under the curse much longer than before. He kept it up until the boy could do nothing more than tremble, muscles giving out on him. He pointed his wand and hissed under his breath a wordless command.

Watery eyes met Tom’s own, and the prefect sneered. “You  _ dared _ harm my James. I am fairly benevolent to those who keep in line. But you? You took from him and hurt him and I  _ will not tolerate such things! _ ” 

A cutting hex impacted Vincent’s arm and the boy shouted. It tore through his school robes, and Tom shot off another, right above the last. They were shallow and long, deep enough to bleed but not too deep as to be life-threatening. A stinging hex crossed overtop the wounds, and the younger teen let out a sob of despair.

Nathaniel shifted closer to Tom, uneasy with the excessive violence his lord displayed. Not because he thought Greengrass didn't deserve it, because he did, but because they had to go unnoticed until Tom graduated. 

“My lord,” he muttered, “we cannot allow ourselves to be given away over filth such as this. What would you have us do?”

The future dark lord paused and regarded his follower with narrowed eyes. “You are correct, Nathaniel. I have a couple more… parting gifts for Greengrass before he may leave.”

“Give me your left arm,” Tom commanded, reaching out. Vincent did as ordered, and Tom pressed his wand to the underside of his forearm. The teen hissed something, and a searing pain burrowed its way under the skin, almost as painful as the earlier Cruciatus Curse the teen had cast wandlessly. When his arm was released, Vincent saw a crude, black skull imprinted on his forearm where the burning sensation had been.

Laughing, Nate asked, “Is that what you had planned for marking your followers, Tom?”

The teen in question nodded gracefully. “Indeed. This design is... simpler, but will function well as a trial for the final product. It will allow me to call Greengrass to my location, and hopefully prevent him from speaking of what has happened here.” 

Tom waved his wand in an intricate motion, one Nathaniel and Abraxas were both unfamiliar with. A sickly yellow glow built up at the tip of his wand, and finally, Tom touched the light to the hollow of Vincent’s throat. The collapsed teen shuddered as nausea swept over him.

“That was a generational curse to weaken you and any of your offspring. By the time you reach your thirties, you will know the same helplessness James felt at your hands.” 

Nathaniel raised his brows in astonishment at Tom’s explanation. Generational curses were no little things, to be tossed about without care. It took a fair deal of magical power to even cast it. Getting the spell to stick took an iron will.

“Greengrass, the mark will burn when I require your presence. The longer you take, the worse it will be for you. You may leave, and tell no one of what we discussed.  _ Stay away from James Granford _ , as well.” Tom stepped back and leaned against the table behind them.

Vincent nodded, and hauled himself to his feet, limping out of the room on a broken leg. He did  _ not _ want to stay even one second longer than he had to, not even to fix the clean break so he could walk faster. 

  
  


Alexander trembled silently, but took his place kneeling in front of Tom without prompting. He knew he would be punished for what he did. There were no reservations that he would be tortured. It was his lord who was angry, after all, and reasonably so. Therefore, Alex simply knelt and submitted to his chosen master for punishment.

The tall teen glared down at Alex. He was, frankly, disappointed in the Lestrange heir. His followers knew what he was like and what he would and wouldn’t tolerate. Alexander had never disappointed him before, and his only saving grace now was that the boy seemed clearly aware that Tom was in charge in this situation. The ease with which Alexander submitted was pleasing to his more dominating nature, but nowhere near enough to calm his rage.

“You know exactly why you are here. Do I need to ask you anything?” Tom drawled, his tone bored but his eyes fierce and attentive.

“No, my lord,” Alex mumbled. Looking up, he continued, “Please, look at my memories. I swear to you that I did not partake. My crime was failing to stop it, failing to alert you, and planning against...  _ your _ James.”

Tom sighed quietly and agreed, “I will allow you this, Lestrange, because you have been an exemplary servant and ally up to this point. You know I do not forgive, and I do not forget, so take heed; whatever you have to show me will not allow you to escape punishment.”

Alex closed his eyes, resigned. “Of course, my lord. I will not make this mistake again.”

“See that you don’t.” Tom waited for those brown eyes to be opened once again, and then cast himself into Alexander’s mind. The boy’s words were confirmed by the clear, untampered memories of the event, start to finish, and now he was completely aware of what the others had done as well. When the future Dark Lord finally pulled out of the other’s mind, Alex was left with tears rolling down his face and a throbbing migraine. Tom hadn’t bothered to be gentle.

His face went blank once again, and he commented, “That is useful, you know. Your point of view was  _ very  _ good for watching what the others did to my little raven. Now I will know  _ exactly _ how to punish them.”

“Th-That’s wonderful, m-my lord,” Alex stuttered through the pained haze in his mind. All of his moderate Occlumency shields had been torn apart, despite him lowering his defenses to allow his lord easier access.

Tom rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension in them. “Your punishment... will be only somewhat lighter than the others’, and  _ do _ remember that I never forgive, and I have a long memory, Alexander Lestrange. You have merely refrained from touching what is mine, and I only punish people based on what they deserve. You did not come to me when you learned of their plan, you assisted them in capturing my James, and you  _ did not stop them _ . Your failures are many, but that you did not participate is the  _ sole _ reason I am not already tearing you apart.”

“Of course, my lord.” Alexander bowed his head all the way to the floor in subservience.

“Indeed, your punishment will be similar to Greengrass’ in type. Much like him, you will be serving as an assistant. Unlike him, however, you will only be serving  _ James _ . You will personally apologize to him, and you will see to his needs and desires. Should he take ill or be injured, you will ensure he gets the appropriate potions and eats regularly.”

Tom sighed. “However, you will not be struck with a generational curse. You have been a loyal follower up t this point, and I do hope you will make up for your mistakes in the future.”

“Yes, my lord,” Alex breathed, slightly awed at how lightly he actually got off. After Greengrass, he expected worse of a punishment, mainly because he  _ knew  _ Tom Riddle, agreed to serve under him, whereas Greengrass hadn't.

The powerful teen smirked at him, and his stomach dropped. “You will, of course, be placed under the Cruciatus Curse briefly. After that, you will gather your school things and head straight to the Hospital Wing to begin your duties. Am I understood?”

Alex swallowed thickly, earthy eyes filled with resignation. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Nathaniel, Abraxas, you two will accompany me to track down all of the three Ravenclaw students who participated in the assault.” He turned his hand to Alex, and frowned. “Five minutes should do it. I suggest keeping your mouth shut. We don’t want you to bite your tongue off, or shatter your teeth, now do we?”

“N-No, my lord.”

“Good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just fyi, this isn't gonna be a happy story for a few chapters. Dealing with everything that's gone down so far will take time, as it does in real life. It WILL get better, though.
> 
> AGAIN! This story has some edits that impact the flow significantly, later on.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There will be more torture, and discussion of rape, again. It will be over soon, don't worry!

Alexander sucked in a sharp breath as he stopped before the doors to the Hospital Wing. His body was trembling, generally unnoticeable save for his twitching fingers. Though he knew it was from the Cruciatus, but anticipation of how James would react to his presence certainly added to his overall anxiety.

He pushed lightly on the heavy wooden doors, causing them to swing open a ways, and entered before he lost his nerve. Alex was a Slytherin for a reason, and his self-preservation wanted him to run far,  _ far _ away from James. All it’d take was a few memories, and he’d be, at the very least, expelled from Hogwarts. James could do so much damage to him just by pointing a finger. The transfer student had always been kind and forgiving, though, and Tom wanted him to do this. Had  _ ordered _ him to do this. He wouldn’t back out now, especially with the guilt churning in his stomach.

Halfway down the ward, Alex could see the raven-haired boy sitting up against his pillows and paging through a worn-out book. The boy looked sickly and pale. There was a greenish tint to his face, and by the bucket at the foot of his bed, he was feeling more than a little nauseous. It was obvious the whole thing had taken its toll on him.

“Granford,” Alex called softly, walking slowly up to the other boy, paces measured to avoid causing alarm. He made sure his hands were away from his pockets so James would feel a bit less defensive. He hoped. 

James turned to face him, and those green eyes widened in shock. There was a line of tension in his shoulders. “L-L-Lestrange?”

Alex winced at the stuttering voice, and nodded. “It’s me. Look, I... what I wanted to say was... well, I guess... I’m sorry.”

“What?”

He could almost laugh at the pure disbelief and shock in the other’s tone, and shrugged a little at the question. Grimacing, he explained, “I’m... sorry, Granford. James. What we did was... it was horrible. I knew that going into it, but the fact that it was wrong didn’t stop me, or make me tell a teacher, or even Tom. You didn’t deserve what we did to you, and I’m sorry we did it.”

Then, ducking his head, he waited for the small teen’s reaction. He could feel James’ eyes on him. In that moment, they carried more weight than anything he’d felt. Even Tom’s aura of power didn’t quite meet how heavily the tiny boy’s gaze weighed on him.

“I don’t know what to do,” James stated slowly. When Alex looked up again, he decided to continue. “You didn’t... you didn’t actually  _ do _ anything to me. Sure, you didn’t stop them, but you didn’t tie me up, and you didn’t rape me along with the others. I don’t know how to react to that, I guess. Y’know?”

He shivered, and continued, “You aren't the first person to just stand by and watch. It's more like what I'm used to, than being treated well is.” He let out a bitter laugh.

Alex nodded slowly, rubbing his jaw, as he thought about it. “The muggles. People think that bystanders are at fault for not stepping in, right? That inaction is almost as bad as the deed itself? I  _ did _ do something to you, even if it was just that. You… you deserve better than what I did.”

James snorted. That was funny, to him, and he drawled, “Well, if that’s true, then there’s not a single person I’ve known before I started Hogwarts this year who wasn’t completely guilty and rotten to the core. Lestrange. I know you didn’t like me before. What changed? It has to be Tom, right?”

“You,” he blurted, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Me?” James asked. He swallowed thickly, hoping it wasn't what he feared. If Alex thought of him like  _ that _ , now… he wouldn't be able to handle it. “How have  _ I _ changed? Sure, I’m a bit more confident, but... I don’t think that would’ve made your jealousy better. You’d probably think I was getting arrogant, right?”

Alex sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what changed.” His voice was flat.

It took the brown-eyed Slytherin a minute to put his feelings to words. “It’s probably that I can’t stand rape. Murder? Yeah, whatever, okay. Whoever it is will be  _ dead _ , no big deal, everything dies someday. But rape is something else. There’s no real reason to ever rape someone. It’s a violation of everything the victim is! I feel sick just thinking about it, and I let that happen.”

James gave him a brittle smile. “Thanks for being honest, I guess. After everything my muggle relatives have done to me over the years... the fact that you didn’t participate, or even cheer them on, is normal to me. What happened wasn't. I was shocked you were there, and it felt a little like betrayal. I'm…I don't really want to be near you. At least, not right now.”

The small teen closed his book and set it on the bedside table. He brushed his messy bangs out of his eyes, and stared up at the ceiling, the knot in his theist tightening. He couldn't get away from his relatives, back at Privet Drive. He  _ could  _ get away from Lestrange, for a few days, though. But… the other teen said Tom sent him to see to James’ needs. James wondered whether or not he should send Lestrange back.

Alex stood in silence for a full minute, just staring at other Slytherin. It briefly occurred to him that James might’ve been through something of the sort, but he hadn't really cared, before. Alex failed to even consider the fact that James might have trusted him, even just a little, before this attack. It took him time to process the conversation before he could say anything in response.

Finally, his brain shifted gears and he managed to refocus on the moment. Coughing lightly, he bowed stiffly to James. “Again, you have my sincerest apologies.” After he straightened up, he peered unsurely at the small teen. “Tom has ordered me to see to your needs and desires, as part of my punishment for the whole mess. I’m willing and able to do whatever you require, but… if you don't want me around, I'm not sure what to do, honestly.”

Blinking in surprise, James said, “Alright, then. Could you... maybe go find my school bag? I don’t know where it went, and it had some of my favorite books in it. I don’t know what Tom had in mind when he asked you to do this. I just… don't want to deal with this, right now.”

“Ah, yes, I can retrieve that,” Alex replied. “And I will tell my lord you wish to speak with him? Do you want me to send food from the kitchens with your bag?”

“Yes, please,” James answered gratefully. “I might be asleep, though. Thank you for your apology, and if you see Tom before I do, tell him that I’d like to... to talk to him, yes.”

Alex nodded, and then he was leaving. The whole thing had gone better than he expected it to, and he found himself actually relieved that James didn't want to see him. The guilt settled deep, but he wouldn't know how to act around the small teen any longer. It made him cringe, knowing that this whole mess probably could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t been so damned jealous from the start, and did what he was supposed to.

  
  


Tom slipped into the Ravenclaw common room with a sneer on his face. The password to the Eagles’ dorms was to answer a riddle correctly. It was so easy, he wondered how students from other Houses didn’t take advantage of it more often. The Ravenclaw Tower certainly had enough inside of it to make it worthwhile to them, after all. There was an entire private library inside, and other trinkets and knick-knacks that the other Houses didn’t have access to. Each dorm had their own special items.

Turning to Abraxas, he ordered, “Go find Sera Mason. Use whatever means you can to get her to voluntarily follow you, I want it known that there was no struggle made on her part, to avoid liability should she recall something.” Facing Nathaniel, he added, “You and I shall find the boys. Don’t worry about manipulation with them; we won't need to remove them from their dorms, after all.”

Both boys nodded, and they went about their mission in tense silence.

  
  


Inside the Headmaster’s office, Slughorn, Dumbledore, Beery, and Cooper stood around Professor Dippet’s desk. Horace’s demand that the headmaster gather together the Heads of Houses was met with confusion at first, but when the old man learned that Mr. Granford had been found, the notice was sent out to the other three professors.

“Alright, Horace, what do you have for us?” Arnold Cooper asked curiously. He was the Head of Ravenclaw, and tended to favor robes with bronze trimmings to show it. As far as classroom preferences went, he tended to be an unbiased and fair educator, not deducting or giving points when unearned. 

Horace grimaced slightly, unhappy about what he had to share. He was well aware that no one would easily accept a student in their House as guilty of the crime he had to accuse them of, but it was a necessary evil, and James had no reason to lie to him about this. Though majorly uncomfortable with the situation, the Potions Master was confident they work work through this issue without much difficulty.

Clearing his throat, he announced, “James Granford has turned up, finally. Another student found him, though I’m unaware of exactly  _ who _ , and escorted him to the Hospital Wing earlier this evening. I’ve just been with the poor boy, and I came here straight after. Apologies if I interrupted anything important.”

Dippet sighed heavily. “No, no, Horace, it’s no trouble at all, I’m sure. Please, explain the situation to us. Did Mr. Granford give any indication as to why he was missing for two days?”

“He did,” Horace admitted reluctantly. 

Dumbledore caught on to his reluctance and his curiosity was aroused. “Perhaps, my friend, you would like a cup of tea? A Calming Draught, maybe? You seem a bit agitated.”

Horace turned narrowed eyes on the Gryffindor Head. “You would be too, if you knew what happened to my poor student!” he snapped, incensed. “James has been assaulted by three other students! He refused to leave wherever he was hiding until just a couple hours ago! Of course I’m agitated!”

“What happened to him?” Beery asked, fiddling with his tie. It was a nervous habit of his, and nearly all his ties were stained with plant juices or covered in dirt by the end of the school day. He was a very kind-hearted man.

“It’s hard to admit aloud. I know none of you want to think badly of your students, and I’d feel the same were it my own in the wrong, as some of them often are,” Horace sighed, the anger draining out of him, leaving exhaustion in its place. “James Granford admitted to me that he was sexually assaulted by three students, on October thirty-first.”

Beery gasped, and Cooper asked, “Who did it, and how bad was it?”

“Three Ravenclaw students. Kimberly, Mason, and Knowles.” Horace rubbed his face. “It was bad, Arnold. Full penetration, twice, and orally, both giving and receiving. James felt so dirty for  _ enjoying _ it when he received oral sex, I had to convince him that his body’s natural reactions made it impossible to avoid.”

The other men were aghast, looking years older than they were. “I expect you have called the aurors?” Dippet asked cautiously.

“Not yet. I wanted to make you aware of the situation before I brought anyone in for this. It isn’t fair to have students arrested without the staff knowing why,” the Slytherin professor replied grimly. “I will be doing that now, if it’s alright. Please, do  _ not _ tell the student body exactly  _ why _ they are being arrested. James wishes it to remain a secret; that was what I had to promise so that I could get him to tell me the names.”

Armando Dippet glanced around at his coworkers. They all looked to be on the same page, and that pleased him. He would be the first to admit he wasn’t the most amazing person, but he could hold his own when he needed to. His tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts would be one of the lesser-known periods, but that was alright with him. It suited his personality just fine to be modestly proud of his achievements. 

“Indeed. Arnold, would you please escort all three of the students in question to my office when you can? The process will be much smoother if we don’t have to look for them later,” he asked, giving the man a grim smile. The Ravenclaw Head nodded firmly and followed his fellow Heads out of the office. 

As the door swung shut, Dippet couldn’t help but wonder whether trouble followed James Granford, or if the boy was just incredibly unlucky. 


	20. Chapter 20

Tom sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall with a smug, satisfied expression. His... revenge had gone well. Wandless  _ crucio _ could only do so much, but there were plenty of neutral and light spells that didn’t set off the wards on the school. Magic wasn’t inherently good or evil, it was all based on  _ intent _ . He’d explained some of the finer points of this to Nathaniel and Abraxas during their ‘study session’ with the trio of Ravenclaws. It wasn't nearly as much as he'd wanted to do to the scum, but again, they had to pass unnoticed.

“What’s got  _ you _ so happy?” Druella pouted, pushing her eggs around the plate.

He chuckled darkly, and answered, “Just managed to put filth in their places, yesterday evening. I’m also going to visit James after breakfast. I’ve got second period free today, and I would enjoy his company.”

Abraxas looked at him knowingly. Tom had been completely unwilling to disclose anything they hadn’t already heard, about the assault on James, but his anger lessened once he had appropriately punished the Ravenclaw students. The tall Slytherin would’ve prefered to kill them, but you couldn't always have what you wanted. The end result satisfied his need for revenge.

“I suppose it helps that the people who attacked him have been arrested,” the blonde boy commented, smirking slightly. 

Waving his hand, Tom dismissed the statement. “That might have something to do with it, yes.” He turned to glance down the table, where Vincent Greengrass was sitting. The younger boy looked slightly ill. Good. “Alexander, how is James doing?”

Alex’s eyes widened, taken by surprise. “Um, g-good. James wants to see you, when you can. I found and returned his school bag, as he’d lost it in the confusion. He seems to be doing much better, my lord.” He’d whispered the title so as to not be overheard. Tom appeared pleased with the news, and the teen allowed himself to relax. “He… he says he doesn't want to be around me, though, so I sent Orion Black to him with his school bag. Was that acceptable, my lord?”

Tom pinned him with a sharp gaze. “I will have to rethink your punishment if what you say is true, but yes, that was a wise decision.”

“When will the trial be?” Edward asked curiously. His interest had grown due to the pure fury Tom had exhibited in the common room with Alexander and Greengrass. “James will have to go, right? Will you be attending with him?”

“Of course I will,” Tom scoffed. “Whyever wouldn’t I? I  _ am _ courting him, after all. Should he need my support, I will be there to provide it. In fact, I might convince Professor Slughorn to allow us a brief lunch date in Diagon Alley.”

“Alright, alright,” Edward conceded, “I get it, okay? So when’s the trial?”

Nate answered for Tom, grinning. “A week from yesterday.”

Sneering, Abraxas added, “My father’s ensuring conviction for all three perpetrators. He said he’d speak to his contacts in the Wizengamot. Due to the nature and severity of the crime, all three are getting a full trial.”

“Mm.” 

Conversation returned to mundane things, such as classes and Quidditch. Breakfast was polished off quickly among the students, and soon enough, classes had begun.

  
  


The morning sun filtered in through the high-set windows in the infirmary. It was still warm enough to hear birdsong, and James rested back against his pillows to meditate for a bit. His Occlumency shields were still fairly weak, and since the nurse refused to release him, the time spent recovering would be perfect for strengthening them. Focusing on the birds he could hear, the teen cleared his mind, drifting aimlessly as his entire consciousness was consumed by the songs.

Once he’d successfully settled his emotions, James pulled away from the songs and directed his consciousness inwards to his mindscape. Approaching the barriers and obstacles he had set up previously, he cringed at the damage to them. The teen reached out to touch the visible fractures, and pulled back almost as quickly, wrist burning as if rubbed raw. He looked down to see that it actually was, though it faded soon after.

James got to work fixing everything. The recent trauma he’d gone through had done this, and all of the broken down and dilapidated parts of his mindscape were infused with memories of what he’d suffered. It took hours to set everything right again without compromising his newly calmed emotional state. All of the memories were drawn out and placed as pages in a book. The book proved to be one of the more unusual manifestations of his memories and thoughts, but it fit with the occasion. The main participants were Ravenclaws, after all.

He strolled into the building he visualized as his mind. It had been Hogwarts, up until Halloween, that was. Now, it looked completely different. None of the places he’d stayed in were subconsciously seen as ‘safe’ for him. Now, it was a strangely fitting mash-up of Hogwarts, Grimmauld Place, and the Leaky Cauldron room he’d stayed at once he got to 1942. There stood tall bookshelves on the far wall, broken in the middle for a wide desk. The walls were made of polished, pale yellow stone, and the floors were aged and wooden. There were no carpets, unlike Grimmauld Place, but the wood was so dark it was nearly black. Off to the side, he saw his large four-poster bed from the Slytherin dorm. Instead of the sheets being green and silver, though, they were green and gold, with heavy black curtains. Finally, there were several framed photos of his parents on the opposite wall, ones he’d seen in the album Hagrid made him.

James tucked the book on a higher shelf and flopped on the bed to catch his breath. His efforts to restore order to his mindscape took more energy than he’d thought it would, and the teen sighed in relief when he realized he was done with that, for the most part. He could just sit and sort through his feelings, instead. 

A few minutes later, he sat up and glared at the book with his newest trauma in it. James stared unhappily at the black snakes curled in the red eagles’ claws on the cover. He would have to face it, eventually, in order to stop having nightmares and flashbacks about it. In his mindscape, he felt much calmer and had clearer thoughts than in reality, too. It provided extra incentive to get through it, but that could wait for another day.

James allowed himself to slip out of his mindscape and into sleep, peaceful for the time being. He was sure he’d have a nightmare again, but he was tired and grumpy. It could wait a few hours before disturbing him.

  
  


Soft hands lifting him awoke the teen, and his green eyes fluttered open to see Tom carefully positioning himself behind the smaller teen. When the other noticed he was awake, James was gifted with a concerned expression and a gentle kiss to his forehead. He smiled back at Tom, and allowed the other to settle him into strong arms.

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly.

James picked up the sense of unhappiness and reassured him, “Yes, but I’d rather be awake to see you anyway.”

Tom made a little perturbed sound in his throat and simply said, “Indeed.”

The smaller teen snorted. “Yeah, really, though. So, how are things going? Are they... did they get arrested yet?” There was no need to specify who  _ they _ were. Tom’s arms tightened around him slightly, but there was no other outwardly expression of unease or anger.

“Indeed, my little raven. All three Eagles have been arrested. Greengrass has been appropriately punished for his actions, and will continue to be a servant for my Knights for as long as I deem it necessary. As Alexander may have told you, he is to be your personal assistant for anything you wish,” Tom explained firmly. “I have realized that I failed to consider whether or not you would want to be around the Lestrange heir. You do not have to have him attend you, if you'd prefer. I care more about your happiness than you might think, my raven.”

James smiled softly and pressed back against Tom’s chest. “You’re an amazing boyfriend, Tom. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“Someone needs to,” he whispered, tilting his head forward to rest his chin on James’ shoulder. 

Nodding slowly, a thought occurred to James. “Hey, Tom? Why... why did you decide to court me? I mean, why did you  _ really _ decide to court me? I know I’m pretty powerful, but that can’t be the only reason. There are plenty of other powerful students in Hogwarts.”

“What brought this on, my little raven?” the larger teen inquired curiously.

James flushed and stared at his hands. Mumbling, he said, “I’m worried...”

Gently, the aristocratic teen turned James’ face towards himself. “James, what is it? What are you worried about?” His tone was filled with sincerity the small sixth year hadn’t heard often, especially towards anyone outside of Tom’s Knights of Walpurgis. He shivered.

Biting his lip, James forced himself to answer. “I’m worried... that once you get used to me being around, you won’t want me anymore. That once I’m useless or boring to you, you’ll move on and forget. I’m just the shiny, new transfer student, after all.”

Tom stared at him for a full minute, just searching his eyes for answers. “Are you really that unsure of yourself, James?” he asked, voice conveying his shock. There was no anger or amusement in his tone, and his expression was earnest. It all felt so new to James. What he’d thought about Tom before coming to this time was torn to shreds before his very eyes.

“Yes!” he blurted. “Yes, I am! Why would you want someone like me? Why haven’t you ever considered a relationship before I came along? I trust you more than I probably should, for having only known you for two months, but I can’t help it, I just  _ do _ . Please.”

“James,” the taller teen began hesitantly, “I want  _ you _ for many reasons. You may not be able to see it yourself, though. I haven’t considered a relationship before you came along, you’re right, but the reason is that no one seemed appealing in that way. At most, I could see them as allies or followers. You have something different about you.”

“But what  _ is _ that? And why not?”

Tom looked decidedly uncomfortable, something James found just plain  _ wrong _ on the other teen. Shifting so he could face the green-eyed boy better, Tom explained, “I wasn’t really capable of feeling more than amusement or satisfaction with others. I found other humans to be funny, odd, helpful, or disappointing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt affection for another human being. You, though, you intrigued me at first. A student transferring to Hogwarts is near-unheard of, and we’re currently in wartime with Grindelwald. You have powerful magic, and I could sense that from you. Your wit is impressive, and you’ve possessed a sharp tongue from the day I first met you, that amused me. My intrigue grew when I discovered your sexual preferences, and when I learned of the abuse you’d suffered. In me, that created a kind of kinship for you. I grew up in less than ideal circumstances, so I am no stranger to pain.”

He took a deep breath, and stared into James’ eyes. “That intrigue grew more and more over time, James. You are actually an incredibly attractive young man, and I noticed that more persistently towards the end of September. At first, I wanted you as a follower. Now? Now, I feel what others would probably call  _ affection _ for you. I don’t entirely understand it, though.”

James nodded slightly, eyes watering. He swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat, and snagged the cuff of Tom’s sleeve tightly, holding it close. “Can you, though? Do you think you could ever fall in love?” he asked weakly. 

Deep down, James was sure the answer would be a resounding ‘no’. Though he wasn’t fond of Dumbledore any longer, what the old man had always said regarding Tom’s ability to love sounded fairly accurate, especially given what Tom had just told him. James needed stability and someone who would care for him deeply, who would put him first and wanted to be with him for who he truly was. He wasn’t sure Tom could be that person.

Tom sighed quietly. “I don’t know, James, my raven. I don’t know. Just these past couple months alone, I’ve been experiencing new emotions I would have never thought possible. If you are willing to risk it, I’d like to continue courting you and see where this goes.”

“I will,” James answered. “I will, and maybe I can help you.”

“Good.” Tom sounded very relieved, and perhaps a bit grateful. “Honestly, I don’t understand my own feelings any more than before. Is it normal to want to be around you all hours of the day, or to protect you from harm? To feel incredibly possessive of you and punish anyone who touches you?”

James laughed quietly, beaming up at him. “That sounds like a strong crush, at the very least. I don’t think we’ll have anything to worry about, then.”

Tom smiled back. “Of course not, my little raven. Do you feel better, now?”

“Yeah.” James yawned, turning to lean back against his boyfriend. “Can I sleep now?”

A soothing hand carding through his long hair gave him all the answer he needed, and James relaxed in Tom’s hold. He slipped off into the realm of the unconscious once more, a contented smile on his lips.


	21. Chapter 21

Nearly the entire group had come to see James right after he was released. Druella and Vera had collected all of his favorite foods for him at the Slytherin table, since he was released right before the evening meal. Nate, Abraxas, Louis, and Edward were surrounding him and telling the small teen about the Gryffindor–Hufflepuff Quidditch match he’d missed. Nothing much had changed House-Points-wise since he’d disappeared on Halloween, and three Ravenclaws had been arrested. They all knew it had something to do with the attack on James, but no one mentioned it further than that.

Once the group had migrated to the Great Hall, they were greeted by several cheerful and relieved professors. Slughorn was there to keep them from overwhelming him, and James made sure the man knew he had appreciated it. Cooper, the Ravenclaw Head of House, extensively apologized for what his students had done, and offered a brief respite in Charms homework while the small teen recovered. 

“No, thank you, professor,” James replied awkwardly. “I’d rather get the extra practice in, if that’s alright with you. My theory’s still a little shaky here and there, so the homework is actually very helpful to me.”

“Are you sure, then?” Cooper asked, worried. At the nod, he sighed, “Well, if you’re sure, Mr. Granford. Again, you have my sincerest apologies for what happened to you. If I’d gotten even a hint of what they were planning... hopefully, you’ll never have to suffer anything like that again.”

“Thank you, Professor Cooper. It’s not your fault,” James stated, smiling.

After that short conversation, the professors slowly drifted away and back to the Head Table to eat their own meals. James sat down in between Tom and Nathaniel, like he usually did, and watched as they piled his favorite foods onto his plate. The others around them were grinning at the sight, and chuckling quietly whenever dark looks were cast their way.

“So, James, are you really doing alright?” Louis asked quietly. 

The green-eyed teen sighed. “More or less. It’s going to take a while to get over it, probably. Tom’s been an amazing support so far, along with Professor Slughorn. Both of them have made sure I know it’s not my fault.”

“Of course it’s not!” Jerod snapped indignantly. “Why  _ would _ it be?”

Druella rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Avery, it’s those filthy  _ muggles _ ’ faults, duh!”

“How?” Jerod asked, confused. “They’re not here... he wasn’t attacked because of them, was he? But he’s a Family Head!”

“No, you imbecile,” Abraxas drawled, “it’s because they ruined his self-esteem. The verbal abuse he was subjected to most likely caused him to think he was a burden, or that only bad things happened around him, even when it’s a clear lie.”

Jerod sneered back at the unspoken insult, but then slumped down in his seat. “Sorry, James. Didn’t mean to bring that up, I guess. I just didn’t understand...”

James laughed, “Don’t worry, Jerod. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

The boy sighed in relief as the group laughed quietly at his misfortune. For a few minutes, only the sound of silverware on dishes, and polite chewing, was heard. The Slytherins glared at the students from other Houses who stared at James, frightening them away, but it didn’t help that much in the long run. No one was going to let James’ brief disappearance go.

Once the meal was done and dessert had appeared, their space was invaded by a trio of concerned (and  _ loud _ ) Gryffindors. 

“James! James, are you alright?” Fleamont Potter was leading the veritable  _ charge _ over to their place at the Slytherin table, completely ignoring all of the glares and bad looks being sent his way. He had one goal in mind and would not be stopped. 

The small teen groaned quietly and sighed. He loved Fleamont, really, but he was so energetic sometimes that it exhausted James. He did laugh at the disgruntled expression Tom was wearing when the Gryffindors finally reached their table. He’d be sure to frame that one in his mindscape. 

“Hi, Potter!” James greeted him warmly. “Yeah, I’m doing pretty well. What’s up?”

“What’s  _ up? _ Did you forget that you’ve been in the Hospital Wing for a week with no visitors allowed? What happened?! We heard you were attacked!” he burst out, obviously unable to keep his exasperation hidden. 

James winced slightly. “I remember, don’t worry. Really, I’m doing fairly well right now.”

“James was just released with good health, so we’re ensuring he stays that way,” Tom commented offhandedly. He smirked at the surprised look the trio of lions had. “The people who were responsible have been appropriately punished. It  _ will not _ happen again.”

“That’s for sure,” Charlotte Falkner snorted. “We’re gonna be keeping an eye out for him, that’s for sure. You’ll be doing that, too, won’tcha?”

Nate grinned. “Of course.”

“Good.” She glanced around and nodded firmly. “See ya around, James! Take good care of him, you got that, snakes?”

Abraxas glared at her. “You don’t need to tell  _ us _ that. Now please, let us finish our meal in peace,” he growled, sneering. 

Charlotte just shrugged and strolled away, completely at ease despite the hostility shown to her and her friends. Brian and Fleamont case concerned glances at James before following her, though, and it was clear the boys weren’t going to drop the subject anytime in the near future. The two of them would have to be told  _ something _ to get them to let go.

James slouched in his seat slightly. “Hey, Tom, I’m gonna head off to the dorms, okay?”

“Allow me to accompany you,” the taller teen insisted, delicately setting his silverware down on his plate. He hadn’t been eating much dessert anyway, only picking at a fruit salad to maintain his healthy eating habits. James let Tom help him to his feet, and the two departed with reassuring smiles to the rest of their companions.

  
  


“Hey, Tom?” James was splayed out across the couch with a Transfiguration textbook open on his stomach. The taller teen was paging through an advanced Arithmancy textbook and taking notes in a green leather journal, one James had discovered was used for spellcrafting. He was amused to learn that there were quite a few showy and mundane charms in it, in addition to the offensive, defensive, and curse spells.

Dark eyes met bright green, and Tom asked, “What is it?”

James shrugged slightly. He wasn’t sure if asking would cross a line somewhere, but ever since Tom mentioned his upbringing was similar to James’ own, the small teen had been incredibly curious. “You said your childhood was like mine. What did you mean?”

His question was met with a resigned sigh, and Tom shut his book, setting it aside. “It’s not something I like to discuss,” he admitted, “but for your sake, I’ll tell you.”

“You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable!” the smaller teen blurted.

Tom chuckled and wandered over to him. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. I’m just not one to share my weaknesses, even if they hold no power over me any longer.” He lifted James’ legs and sat down, placing them on top of his own once he’d settled. “I grew up in an orphanage. Nasty, run-down place it was, but it’s all I’d known, until I turned eleven and was told about magic and Hogwarts.”

“Muggles, then?” James asked curiously. “What about family members?”

Tom shook his head in denial. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me, apparently. I received my father’s name, Tom Riddle, and my grandfather’s surname, Marvolo. Growing up, I’d been convinced that someone would come for me. Though that hope died over the years, when I discovered the magical world I thought that my father must have been magical.”

James blinked, and kept silent as Tom continued. “See, I logically thought that any witch would be strong enough to survive something as trivial as childbirth. Since coming to Hogwarts, I’ve been made aware that even for magical people, labor is no laughing matter, so I do not hold quite the same views, but my mind was made up. Imagine me searching for records of any family named ‘Riddle’ in the magical world. I came up with nothing, until I started looking in the muggle world. I know where he is, now, and I plan to...  _ visit _ him over the coming summer. Him, and my uncle, Morfin Gaunt.”

“So, you  _ did _ have living family?” James asked incredulously. “Either of them could have taken you in! Surely they knew  _ something _ of your existence, right?”

“I plan on getting those answers soon enough, my raven,” Tom agreed. “Like I said, my childhood seems similar to your own. I wasn’t beaten by my guardians, true, but with twenty to fifty other children at any given time, they were plenty vicious on their own. I had no friends. No one wanted to adopt me, either. I learned I could speak to snakes, and that I could make things move without touching them. That animals did what I wanted them to. That I could make people hurt if they made me angry or scared.”

Shifting to sit against Tom, James leaned in and rested his head on the taller teen’s shoulder. A hand came up to brush through his hair. Tom really enjoyed playing with the long, black strands, it seemed. James just moulded himself into the other’s side with a contented hum, eyes closing, listening in silence.

“The children were the worst of it. The orphanage matron, Mrs. Cole, was too frightened to lay a hand on me, and she was a generally meek person in the first place. Her punishments were limited to withholding food and the like.” Tom chuckled darkly. “I just made the other children give me theirs, if I went over two days without anything. One particular boy went out of his way to torment me. Billy Stubbs. He had a pet rabbit, you know. Well, not for long. One day, after he’d beaten me bloody, they found his rabbit hanging from the rafters with a noose around its neck. I’d liked it at the time, but it only caused me more pain.”

“What did they do to you?” James muttered in curiosity. 

Tom’s fists clenched against his trousers and James’ shirt, carefully avoiding the small teen’s hair. James looked up to see cold fury and...  _ fear _ in his eyes. Tom was afraid of whatever they’d done to him, and James felt a protective anger rise in himself at seeing that emotion. He wanted to comfort his boyfriend, but wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Tom. What did they do?” he asked softly. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on the other teen’s angular jaw, stroking his thumb across Tom’s cheek. The green-eyed boy sighed in relief when Tom’s attention was directed back to him. “You can tell me, Tom.”

His eyes softened slightly, and a tiny smile stole its way across his lips. “I know, my little raven.” Tom captured the hand on his jaw and pressed a kiss to James’ palm, eyes never leaving the green pair staring up at him. “I know.”

James shivered at the heat in Tom’s gaze, and shyly smiled back. “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, the taller teen began, “They called in a priest, after that.” He noticed James’ worried expression. “They thought I was possessed. Mrs. Cole wasn’t sure about it, but they did it anyway. I  _ hated _ that priest. He was... a filthy, disgusting muggle,  _ at best _ . They took me to a spare room and stripped my shirt off. The matron and an assistant had to hold me down, I was fighting so hard. See, I thought that even if my powers came from the devil, it was fine. I’d never wanted to be normal, after all. The priest drew a cross on my chest with holy water and sprinkled it with some kind of powder, and there was all this latin chanting, and I was frightened out of my mind. It was... a horrid experience. There was so much going on that I couldn’t take it all in at once, and I felt overwhelmed.”

“So, they tried to perform an exorcism on you?” James asked.

“Yes, they did. I never could figure out why my magic wouldn’t come to my aid. Maybe there was some anti-magic relic the priest had or something, I’m not sure,” Tom clarified, a thoughtful frown taking up his expression.

James shook his head. “That can’t be it,” he argued. “My magic’s never helped me  _ during _ a beating, aside from trying to keep me alive. Maybe you were in too much shock to react, or you felt so overwhelmed that your magic reacted to that, instead, and made sure you were uninjured through the whole mess.”

Still frowning, Tom conceded, “That could be true. We’ll never know for sure.”

“No,” James agreed. “We won’t.”

“Do you want to eat in the kitchens, again? Or are you able to handle the Great Hall?” Tom’s tone held concern, and the small teen smiled warmly at him. 

“The Great Hall is fine. As long as you’re there, I’ll be okay,” James answered.

Tom snorted. “Indeed. One would normally not consider my presence  _ comforting _ .”

“I’m just odd like that,” James laughed. He stood and stretched his muscles out from the extended period of sitting and lying on the couch, covering a yawn. “I’m too tired... I’ll be heading off to bed, now. See you tomorrow, Tom.”

“Good night, then,” came the taller teen’s cordial reply. “Sleep well, my little raven.”

James nodded and left the room, eyes heavy with sleep. He was hoping for a dreamless night.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Consensual Sex!! In this chapter.

December rapidly approached the school. The students were making holiday plans, buying gifts in Hogsmeade or by owl order, and studying for end-of-term exams. November had passed mostly without issue. Much to the surprise of James, Tom had taken to actually divulging and discussing his plans and political views with the small teen, in addition to other things. Their conversation about Tom’s time at the orphanage in London seemed to have opened a dam in their relationship, allowing both to be more open with each other. 

On the other hand, their relationship had still not progressed past heavy make-out sessions, and James was getting frustrated. He didn’t want to push Tom to do anything that the taller teen didn’t want to, but the drive to go farther was incessant. During passionate kisses, the little green-eyed teen had to constantly hold back and mentally distance himself from the situation. He was sure that Tom had picked up on it, but... the topic hadn’t been broached since Tom first explained that he would never make James do something sexual he didn’t want to. It was incredibly infuriating, and James was reaching the end of his rope.

The boy wasn’t sure why, either. Ever since he was raped, he’d been constantly thinking about sex in one way or another. The thought of going through that again disgusted him, and he often found it hard to keep food down without encouragement and reassurance from Tom, Nate, and Abraxas. What he  _ did _ want, though, was to have a sexual experience he  _ wanted _ , with Tom, whom he trusted with his safety and comfort. Why it was so hard to tell the other teen, James couldn’t say, but it was, and he hated it.

Things came to a head in the first week of December. Druella’s badgering over whether they’d done anything more than kissing had annoyed James to the point of avoiding contact with the group as a whole. He wanted a chance to cool off and have some alone time. Time without his friends was a rarity, since they were worried about another attack. He’d taken to slipping away through the secret passageways between classes, or hanging out in the Room of Requirement to practice dueling and work on unlocking his animagus form. 

Tom had cornered him in their room on Saturday morning, before James could slip away and disappear for the day. “What’s going on, James? Why are you avoiding everyone?”

The small teen let out a short growl of frustration. “Everyone’s suddenly too clingy! I can’t get time to myself anymore without hiding away, and Druella’s questions about our relationship are pissing me off, and I can’t think straight when I’m around you!”

Tom waited silently for James to continue ranting. “Honestly, We’ve been together a month and a half, now, and all we’ve done is kiss! I don’t want to ask you to do more with me if you don’t wanna, but seriously, I can barely hold myself back anymore,” he shouted, pacing. “You are an amazing person, Tom, and brilliant at reading people, but I can’t keep this up! It’s wearing me out, and I feel like absolute shit most of the time. Do you even want me that way? Am I just reading things wrong? What is it?!”

“James,” Tom sighed, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. “You’re keeping so much to yourself. I was avoiding any kind of contact I thought would bring back unpleasant memories, as I’d hate to cause you further suffering.”

“So, you  _ do _ want to have sex with me?” the little teen bit out, almost pouting.

“Yes,” Tom chuckled, kissing his neck. “Very much so, in fact. You are  _ mine _ , little raven, mine to hold and care for. I will, however, speak to Druella about dropping the subject. You are correct about her being annoying, to me as well.”

The green-eyed boy let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Tom, please, I want to do it with you.”

“Are you sure?” Tom cast a critical look at him, searching his expression for any signs of hesitation or discomfort. All he could see was a strong determination to achieve the goal the little teen set out for. 

“ _ Yes! _ Please, I want you so badly,” James pressed, twisting his neck to look into Tom’s dark eyes. “I still feel so dirty from them, too. I want you, I want to feel loved and clean of what they did to me... I need you to erase their presence, Tom.”

James’ words spoke to the taller teen’s possessive nature, and Tom’s eyes darkened further in lust as he gazed down at the boy he considered  _ his _ . James had always looked so gorgeous, dressed in a stylish waistcoat and slacks on the train that day they met. The boy’s skin, though marred with evidence of his mistreatment, was utterly delicious, and Tom loved to kiss and bite at that thin neck.

A shiver ran down James’ spine at the look in Tom’s eyes. It was practically predatory, and the small teen had no trouble at all with submitting to the dominating kiss he was pulled into. Somehow, the taller teen had navigated them into his bedroom and back toward the large bed in the center of the room. 

He found himself gently pushed back onto the soft covers, and easily swung his feet up onto the bed to lie down. Tom knelt above him, one leg on either side of James’ thigh, and ran his hands up underneath the white button-down shirt the lithe boy was wearing. James simply lay back and allowed his partner to take control of the situation.

Deft fingers undid the buttons and pulled his shirt open to expose a slightly toned chest and stomach, milky pale and layered with the occasional scar. Tom explored every inch of the exposed skin, mapping it out with soft touches and light kisses along the protruding collarbone and drawing his tongue down James’ sternum. The small teen whimpered and squirmed at the heated contact and tried to press closer to his lover.

Tom pressed him down gently, holding his shoulders in place. To James’ surprise, the young man’s lips found his nipples, kissing and biting gently, causing them to tighten arousal. He chuckled at a particularly throaty moan James made when he sucked harshly on one of the dusky nubs. Soon, all the small teen could manage were breathless pants and pleads for more. More touching, more kissing, more  _ Tom _ .

Finally, delicate hands went searching for the buttons for Tom’s own shirt, and they shed the rest of their clothing, leaving them both in only their underwear. Both boys’ arousals were obvious, straining against their fabric confines. 

“Are you ready for more, my little raven?” Tom asked, voice deep.

James shivered in excitement and nodded eagerly, pupils blown wide. “Yes! Please, Tom, I need more,” he begged, sitting up to reach his lover for more contact, only to whine softly when the taller teen pushed him back to the bed.

“Hush,” Tom muttered, breath ghosting over James’ stomach. He bit lightly on the edge of the small teen’s belly button, smirking evilly when that earned him a squeak. Slowly, painfully slow, Tom’s fingers wrapped over the waistband to James’ underwear, tugging it down his hips. The band caught on James’ straining cock, causing a sharp gasp. 

“Tom!” James shouted, hips jerking in the other’s hold. He bit his bottom lip to muffle the needy sounds pouring from his mouth. As his arousal was exposed to the cool air, he tried to suck in deep breaths, head spinning with the sensations he was experiencing. 

Pulling back slightly, Tom took a moment to marvel at the beauty that was James, in that moment. Looking thoroughly ravished, bitemarks and bruises along his neck and shoulders, and that twitching red cock dripping beads of precum on his stomach, it made Tom painfully hard in his own underwear. He leaned forward, almost hesitantly, and pressed a kiss to the head of James’ arousal, shuddering as it jerked at the contact. James was making little mewling sounds as he started to kiss the hardened flesh in earnest, occasionally licking up the drops of precum from the tip. 

Fingers pressed harshly down on James’ hips, holding the small teen in place, Tom took the head into his mouth, sucking lightly. James moaned and writhed under him, whimpering as his lover swirled his tongue around the tip. Tom took more of his length in, bobbing his head gently to provide some type of friction. Finally, he gathered up his wits and took the entire length of James’ cock in his mouth, trying to swallow instead of gag as it hit the back of his throat. He was awarded with a string of curses from those lovely pink lips, and felt the teen tense under him. Tom pulled back slightly only to go down again and swallow.

James couldn’t hold back any longer, his curses getting more creative as he came hard, Tom’s slick throat constricting around his cock. He felt his muscles go limp, weighing him down onto the soft sheets, as Tom slowly pulled back. He saw the lust in his lover’s eyes and felt his member twitch weakly, trying to harden again as his arousal came back with a vengeance. 

Tom laughed as he noticed that, sliding forward to pull James into a dominating kiss. At some point during the amazing but amature blow job, Tom had managed to remove his own underwear, leaving his cock free and leaking as he took care of James. Their arousals rubbed together, creating burning friction, and they both moaned into the kiss. Tom fumbled blindly for his wand, not letting go of James for an instant. 

When he found it, a muttered spell conjured slick lube that he spread onto his fingers and arousal liberally. He made eye contact as he backed off, watching once again for any sign that James no longer wanted this. His index finger found the puckered hole and teased it, drawing circles around the rim and spreading the lube a bit more to ease the way. When James pushed back against him, Tom slid his finger in to the second knuckle. James was so tight that he couldn’t stop a groan from escaping his lips at the thought of his cock inside that constricting heat. Sliding his finger in and out, he began loosening his little raven.

James panted at Tom’s touch, and hissed as a second, and then third, finger was added to stretch and prepare him. When those fingers curled slightly and hit that little bundle of nerves, he cried out at his vision blanked for a moment. Tom’s rich chuckle only made him harder, and he began earnestly pushing back into the small thrusts his lover’s hand was making. 

After another couple minutes of bringing James to the edge, Tom tugged his fingers out of the clenching hole. Grinning at the whines James made at being empty, he made sure he was slicked up and pressed the head of his cock against that amazing little pucker.

James’ eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he let his head drop, closing his eyes to enjoy it. Tom slowly pushed past the ring of muscles, using every ounce of self-control he had to be gentle and make it good for his raven. The tight walls hugged his shaft and set him ablaze as he stared down at where they were so intimately connected.

“ _ Tom _ ,” James gasped, hands clawing at the sheets. “Tom,  _ more! _ ”

The dark-eyed teen did just that, and continued pushing forward until his hips met James’ thighs. His imagination hadn’t lived up to reality, and the heat enveloping him was nearly overwhelming to him. His mind cried out to thrust harshly into the little body underneath him, to bite and dominate his little raven until all James could think about was him. He hissed as he pulled out gradually, setting a gentle pace despite his subconscious urges. 

James pressed back to meet every slow thrust, readily accepting his lover’s cock into his body. It was so good, and his moans filled the room once again, but he wanted more. James took a moment to wrap his legs around Tom, urging him closer,  _ deeper _ . Tom cursed at the change and stilled to lean over and kiss his James.

Once their lips met, Tom’s thrusts sped up and gained intensity, pounding harshly against the small body beneath him, reaching deep into James. He grew more aggressive, and the kiss quickly turned into teeth pulling at the little teen’s bottom lip, swallowing his gasps and moans as he forcefully pressed deeper into his little raven. One of James’ legs was lifted from around Tom’s hips and over the taller teen’s shoulder, allowing him to pound into James harder.

James moaned and mewled at the pace Tom had reached, crying out every time that little bundle was hit. He started gasping his lover’s name as he felt the tension coil in his stomach, trying to warn his lover of his impending completion. Tom seemed to have got the message, since he reached down and pumped James’ hardened cock several times. James cursed again as he came, spurts of white covering his chest and stomach. 

Tom reveled in James’ expression as the little teen came, tightening deliciously around him. James looked like an angel, the blissful expression spread across his flushed features was almost heavenly. He continued to pound into James, making the teen cry out as his oversensitive body was pushed further, until the taller teen reached his own completion. Tom emptied himself into the small, delicate body and rode out his orgasm with a quiet hiss. He slowed and stilled deep inside his little raven, unwilling to pull out just yet.

James sighed in relief and grinned as Tom graced him with another possessive kiss. He felt oddly full with Tom inside him, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and he loved his partner’s show of dominance. Tom shifted their positions, turning to lay beside James without pulling out, legs tangled together under the sheets.

“That was... amazing,” James breathed, laughing slightly.

Tom smirked, and his fingers found one of the still-hardened nubs. As he played with James’ nipples, he drawled, “Very much so, my little raven. You are so gorgeous, such a sexy little minx for me, aren’t you?”

Blushing, James ducked his head. Tom wrapped a firm arm around his little lover’s waist and sighed in contentment. “You are  _ mine _ , my little James. Mine, and I will never let you go, now that I have you. Sleep. I will stay with you the whole night.”

James nodded and allowed his heavy lids to slip shut, a loving smile playing across his lips. Tom watched the small teen until his breathing evened out and smiled darkly. He was entirely serious with his possessive words. James was his, and the green-eyed boy had given himself to the tall young man willingly. He would never let his adorable little raven go. Not now that he finally had him, heart, body, and mind. 

Tom drifted off to sleep with a smug expression, to dream of power and his James.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not exactly my intention, but I ended up writing more explicit slash scenes than I’d originally anticipated. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum, but they’re both horny teenage males and James has an additional reason for his sex drive, which will be explained later. Sorry if this isn’t your cup of tea, but I did warn you at the beginning.  
> On another note, please enjoy the chapter!
> 
> (And yes, this chapter is *also* mostly smut.)

James gradually woke up to comfortable warmth surrounding him and an odd ache in his lower back. He opened his eyes to see Tom’s sleeping face right next to his, and the night came back to him in an exhilarating rush, causing his chest to ache in giddy happiness. After taking a moment to get his bearings, he noticed that neither of them had shifted at all during the night, and Tom was still inside him. The realization caused him to flush brightly with arousal.

He must have shifted or made some sound, because soon Tom’s dark eyes were fluttering open. They were glazed with the hazy remnants of sleep, clouded with drowsiness. The small teen chuckled as his lover gained awareness of the situation. Tom blinked down at him, and his lazy smirk made James’ blush grow darker. It obviously caused a reaction in the other teen, too, because the green-eyed boy could feel the cock inside him start to stiffen again. He let out a lecherous moan when Tom teased him by rolling his hips slightly.

“Good morning,” the taller teen purred, turning so that James was resting on top of him. He bucked his hips and thrusted up into the small body, tearing another low moan from his little raven. James rested his head against Tom’s chest, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him with the sudden thrust.

“M-Morning,” he gasped, fingernails scraping slightly against his lover’s chest when Tom gave another little push. He was oversensitive from the night before, and having been filled since then, his hole was aching deliciously. 

Tom chuckled smoothly and kissed James’ forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Great,” he stated, jerking at another thrust. “If you’d stop that, I mean!”

“Not in the mood?” the taller teen asked in concern, completely stilling his lazy motions.

James laughed quietly and shook his head. “No, I am, but you’ve gotta stop teasing me! It’s too much, after last night, I feel ten times more sensitive.” He pushed back slightly onto Tom, grinning smugly at the moan he managed to draw from the stoic boy. “Stop teasing and just take me, already!”

Growling sharply at the challenge, Tom did just that. He pulled both of them up so that James was on his lap, and the small teen squeaked in surprise as Tom’s arousal sunk deeper into his body. A brilliant red flush spread down his neck and reached the tips of his ears and he cursed in appreciation. Tom made short work of getting the pace set, lifting his little raven up a few inches and slamming him back down repeatedly, each thrust feeling deeper than the last. The second or third managed to brush James’ prostate, and it didn’t take long before they were both reaching the edge.

“Tomtomtomtomtom-” James babbled, gripping his lover’s shoulders tightly. Tom was silently panting, keeping up the fast rhythm they’d set, gripping thin hips with bruising fingers. He hissed again as James grew tighter, clenching around his cock as the teen’s orgasm hit.

James breathed in sharply when he came, moaning lustfully. Tom came just after him, unable to stand the extra pressure for too long, and James mewled blissfully. Warm heat filled him to bursting, pleasure shooting through his body as Tom shoved him as far down on his cock as he could get when the other came. The combination of both orgasms was heady and left both of them a bit dizzy. 

Kissing his lover deeply for a moment, James then tucked his head under Tom’s chin as they waited to come down from their emotional high. Tom’s hands moved from his hips, sliding gently up his back, caressing his sides and coming to rest between his shoulder blades and at on the back of his neck. 

After a few minutes of just holding each other, Tom muttered, “We should take a shower and head to breakfast before we’re missed. Druella and Abraxas will attempt to break in if we aren’t prompt enough... not that they could, anyway.”

James chuckled in amusement. “Very true. I  _ do _ feel pretty gross, though. We slept in my cum last night. Now it’s dried onto us.” He looked up at Tom and asked, “Will you take a shower with me? I’m sure there are places I’m too sore to reach, right now.”

“Of course, my little raven,” he answered smoothly. “Besides, I want to see just how thoroughly you are  _ mine _ , my James. How much of my seed your body is holding, has  _ been _ holding, all night. Such a lovely little hole, it takes me so well.”

James groaned, feeling himself start to harden again. Curse his youthful recovery rate, and Tom’s apparent insatiability. He didn’t have the energy to go another round yet! “ _ Tom _ ,” he whined, hitting the taller teen’s shoulder lightly. “ _ Stop! _ I’m too tired to go again!”

Tom laughed deeply and reached for his wand, all the while keeping James on his lap. He knew that he required less sleep than James, and he’d ended up well rested after going to bed long before midnight. “Very well,” he sighed. “I’m going to cast a spell to keep my seed inside you until the counterspell is cast, alright? I want to see just how much you're  _ mine _ .”

Shivering in arousal, James nodded. “Alright. Just help me walk to the bathroom; I don’t think I can manage on my own.”

The spell was muttered under his breath, and Tom gradually eased out of his little lover’s body. James’ muscles clenched around him, as if trying to keep him inside, and they both shuddered at the added friction. Though he  _ could  _ go again, Tom would agree that they needed a break before doing anything more.

James was gingerly set down on the edge of the bed, and winced. “Bloody brilliant, I’m sore in places I didn’t know I  _ could _ be sore in! I hope this will lessen as we do this more often, because if it doesn’t, I’m going to need to brew a stock of minor pain potions.”

“Are you okay?” Tom asked in concern. “Do you need a potion right  _ now _ ?”

“No,” James replied easily. “Not yet, at least. Let’s take that hot shower and see if the warm water will relax my muscles a bit, before I take anything.”

Tom still looked unsure, and the small teen grinned. He wasn’t used to his lover showing so much emotion, even in private. It seemed like that night was something they  _ both _ needed, in the end. “Really, Tom, I’m fine. It was bloody brilliant, and if I wasn’t so tired, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re very skilled, for someone who hasn’t had dated anyone before.”

Here, the Slytherin boy shrugged. “When I was in fourth year, I started to notice how boys and girls enjoyed their time alone. Since I wasn’t particularly interested, I didn’t do anything about my curiosity until others began to approach me in my fifth year, but I decided it was best to learn how to seduce someone properly. Male and female, I have a little experience with both. It was in case I ended up needing those skills in the future, to manipulate or seduce others to my cause. I was indifferent in each occasion, it was merely a learning experience for me.”

James stared in surprise. He wondered if it was a pureblood who he’d had sex with, and felt strangely jealous. He thought it was silly to be jealous about it, because it was before he’d met Tom, and his lover apparently hadn’t even enjoyed it, but still... he couldn’t help it.

“James? James, are you okay?” Tom’s voice called him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” James smiled faintly, lying. He’d get over it. It was stupid to assume Tom  _ hadn’t _ learned a possible manipulation technique like that. He was the epitome of Slytherin, at least in the forties, and a Slytherin always had the upper hand whenever possible, even in intimate situations.

What James  _ didn’t _ expect was to be scooped up, bridal-style, and carried the short distance to the bathroom. He shot an inquiring look at Tom, who answered his gaze with a light glare. James quickly averted his eyes, feeling ashamed for a reason he couldn’t place.

When he was set down on the edge of the bathtub, Tom went about preparing the shower, leaving him to stew. The green-eyed teen couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong, aside from the obvious; he’d lied about being okay. That shouldn’t matter so much to Tom, though, right?

“James,” his lover began, pulling fluffy towels out from one of the cupboards, “I know you lied to me. Now, I haven’t requested that you remain honest at all times, so I’m going to let this little occasion slip, but you need to be truthful with me in the future. Unless your safety is at stake by telling me the truth, such as if we are in a public area with potential enemies, I expect complete honesty. Is that acceptable?”

James swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Tom.”

The taller teen turned to wrap one of the towels around his little lover’s shoulders before reaching to turn on the shower. “I understand  _ why _ you lied, also, so I don’t entirely blame you. I’d forgotten that your time with those filthy muggles has hurt you and made you incapable of seeing your true worth. It was my mistake, though I didn’t want to be dishonest with you and allow you to think I’d never had intercourse before.”

Gripping the edges of the towel, he pulled it tightly around his body. “It’s okay,” he quietly mumbled. “I shouldn’t expect anything like that. I mean, we just met this year, of course you’d have other experiences that I wasn’t a part of. It was stupid of me to think otherwise.”

“No,” Tom stated firmly. “I’ve never courted... or  _ dated _ ... anyone before now. You are the only human I’ve ever been emotionally attached to, past my concern or contentment with my Knights. It  _ was _ reasonable to assume I’d not had intercourse before.”

He turned to face James, head tilted away slightly, a sneer on his face. “Besides, none of  _ them _ were able to give me pleasure in return.  _ You _ , my little raven, are special in many ways. Last night and this morning were wonderful, and I find myself eager to do such things again. Now, the shower is comfortably hot. Come here, James.”

James stood and waddled over, wincing occasionally. The feeling of fullness hadn’t left him even after Tom pulled out, mainly because of the spell his lover had cast to keep all of his seed inside. It was an odd sensation, and James couldn’t decide whether he enjoyed it or found it discomforting when he moved.

He stepped into Tom’s arms, and was guided carefully under the hot spray. It was so very relaxing, and he felt the stiffness ease from his body. James sighed happily as Tom started to rub his shoulders, massaging the tenseness away. He closed his eyes and leaned back against his lover to just enjoy the moment.

Tom chuckled at the expression of bliss on his little raven’s angelic face. “So beautiful for me, James. My little raven, my  _ lover _ . You look positively delicious like this, all innocent and open to my touch.” His right hand slid down James’ chest, along his stomach, and caressed his hardening member. “So submissive for me.”

James bit his lip at the delicate touches, trying to control his reaction to Tom’s smooth tenor voice. He felt deeply loved and cared for. Tom  _ wanted _ him, had made it obvious that he wanted the green-eyed boy, and  _ told _ the small teen that he found him attractive. It turned James on more than he would have thought.

“You’ve done so well, taking me in that tight little arse of yours,” Tom hissed, a quiet, hissing undercurrent of Parseltongue to his tone. “So much of my seed inside you, filling you up. You are divine, my little raven, my James.”

Left arm wrapping around the thin waist, Tom let his right hand slip further down to tease at the sweet little pucker. Two fingers slipped in easily, stealing a moan from the small teen, and Tom smirked as the ring of muscles clenched around his fingers in need. He slowly pushed in, his smirk growing as he felt the cum trapped inside his little raven. 

“You’re so full, James,” he breathed, kissing along his lover’s neck. “So full of my cum, so deliciously filled with  _ my _ essence. I’m never letting you go, little raven, not any more. No one will touch you again without your permission. Without  _ my _ permission. Only I can touch you like this, James, make you feel this pleasure, as long as you’ll let me. You are  _ brilliant _ , my raven.”

Panting harshly, James tried to catch his breath. Tom’s words and small touches made him so hard. His cock was aching and red, leaking precum from the tip in a steady dribble. The thought to touch himself hadn’t even passed through his mind, as his lover’s words caressed his ears and made his chest burst in joy and love. Even when claiming him, Tom wasn’t going to force him into anything he didn’t want. James felt so close to release.

Tom seemed to pick up on that, and kissed James at the junction between neck and shoulder. Still slowly thrusting fingers into his raven, he bit down hard and curled them up, hitting the little bundle of nerves he knew would push James over the edge.

“Fuck!” James came hard, hands gripping Tom’s hair tightly. He felt Tom’s fingers leave him and the taller teen’s cock push carefully into him, bending him over slightly. His lover quickly reached his own orgasm, pulsing and shooting even more cum into the small teen. When he finally finished and pulled out, he grinned at the dazed expression James wore.

“Shall we see just how much of my seed you’ve got in you, little raven?” One shaky nod later, and Tom was sitting on the edge of the tub, James’ head resting over his shoulder, the boy kneeling on his lap with spread legs. 

Tom whispered the counterspell and watched intently. Almost instantly, James moaned as the cum slipped out of him. Once again, Tom’s fingers found their way to the little pucker, and the taller teen helped the process along a bit. There was so much, three releases’ worth, and the taller teen sucked in a shuddering breath at the sight. He’d discovered something about himself. He  _ loved _ filling his James until the lithe body was fit to burst. Just the sight of that tight little hole dripping with him would be enough to make him cum, if he hadn’t just finished inside his little raven. 

“Oh,  _ James _ , you did so well,” he moaned quietly. “So much of my seed in you. You had so  _ much _ of me filling you. It’s amazing, my James. If we didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d take you and fill you so many times that your stomach bulged with my cum.”

James whimpered, almost needy, at the imagery. Cautiously, Tom helped James stand up again on wobbly legs and move under the spray to finish getting cleaned off. They stood, pressed against one another, as Tom scrubbed the small teen’s body lightly. Like he’d stated, they had somewhere to be, and he’d already delayed long enough. There would be plenty of time to enjoy themselves later. He’d make sure of that. 


	24. Chapter 24

Once the rest of the shower was over, James stumbled out to his room to dress in some clean clothing, with Tom strolling smugly back to his own room. The small teen picked out a green waistcoat with a black shirt and trousers, following it up with a quick comb through his longer hair and a silver hair clasp to give it that final Slytherin touch. Since it was the weekend, he wasn’t required to wear his uniform or robes.

Tom was waiting in the shared living area with a vial of minor pain reliever. “Take this, I’ve been told it will help,” he stated, offering up the vial. “When you’re ready, we can head to the Great Hall for breakfast. I’m sure the others will appreciate our company.”

“More like hunt us down if we don’t show up,” James grumbled, downing the potion in one swallow. It wasn’t the worst tasting, by far, but potions very rarely tasted good. He searched for his school bag, having left it out the previous night. The small teen wanted to have his research journal on hand for later. 

Tom flicked his wand and the bag zoomed to him with a wordless  _ accio _ . “Here, James. You really should think about using magic more often, it’s not just for dueling and pranks.”

Rolling his eyes, the raven-haired boy laughed. “I know, but I don’t want to get lazy. Besides, I think having a split-second reaction to draw my wand is plenty good enough for most occasions. At least I’ve learned to dodge rather than always shield, when I can.”

“Yes, you  _ did _ have that bad habit,” the taller teen muttered to himself. “Well, I suppose it’s fine, now that we’ve broken you of that potentially fatal mistake. There will  _ always _ –”

“–be a spell I can’t shield against, I  _ know _ , Tom,” James sighed, grinning. “You’re such a teacher, sometimes. Honestly! Always explaining theory when I don’t get it at first. I do appreciate it, in the end.”

“Indeed,” he drawled, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Don’t interrupt me, though. I may treat you differently than the others, but I still do not appreciate the disrespect shown when I am interrupted mid-sentence.”

James sighed heavily, walking over to place a chaste kiss on his lover’s lips. “You need to understand that I don’t do it out of disrespect, Tom. I’ll try to avoid it, but when I interrupt you like that, it’s out of affection. Not disrespect. Do you understand?”

Eyes closed, Tom took a moment to think it over. He could hear the difference in tone between the two instances, using when Avery had interrupted him the other week as a controlled comparison. Eventually, he admitted, “Yes, I believe I do. I’d still like you to avoid interrupting me in public, though. If others see you getting away with it, they will be much more likely to do so themselves, believing me to be lax.”

It was easy to understand Tom’s views on the matter, and so James easily acquiesced. “I won’t interrupt you in public, then. If I do, try to remind me with a stinging hex, or something else minor, alright?”

Tom smirked and pulled James in for another kiss. He nipped at his raven’s lower lip, and tugged lightly. “Easy enough. I’m glad you’re intelligent enough to keep up with me, my little raven. I’ve heard communication is the key to a good relationship.”

“If I wasn’t, would you honestly bother with me?” James asked slyly. 

They both knew the answer was a resounding  _ no _ . Tom didn’t waste his time with anyone below average intelligence, and most of the time also ignored those who were actually  _ at _ average, as well. The only exceptions to it were if the person had connections or political clout he could use. If James hadn’t been smart enough to hold a decent conversation, he wouldn’t have warranted even a second glance.

After that question, both went about getting their things in order. Tom waited by the door for James to shrink one of his quills, an ink bottle, and the hardcover journal that the small teen used for spells, research, and important information. He was one of the few who’d been given the chance to look through it. James really did have a knack for certain things, like warding and defense. It was interesting to see how the teen approached the subject of warding, and even enchanting, as Ancient Runes was a subject used for both purposes. 

Due to his lack of knowledge in Arithmancy, James had avoided spellcrafting for the most part, even if Charms and DADA were his strongest subjects. Enchanting had grabbed the small teen’s interest when Professor Babbling had mentioned it in passing, and James experimented a lot with random items he got his hands on. Tom had seen some of the end products, and with another few months of experience, James could actually make a career out of it. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, offering his arm. 

James grinned and nodded. “Always the gentleman, right? Well, let’s go, we don’t want to keep the blonde terrors waiting.”

Tom sighed in resignation. “Right. Abraxas is bad enough on his own, but ever since you joined us, Druella’s attachment to you has made her a nightmare as well. I don’t know why I allow them so much freedom, to tell the truth.”

“It’s because you find my suffering amusing, for the most part,” James teased. “If Druella and Abraxas weren’t around to torment me, then what would you do? They just  _ love _ to mess with people.”

“It  _ does _ surprise me that Abraxas enjoys that,” Tom commented lightly. “I would have pegged him for a mind-games kind of person, true, but simple teasing always seemed beneath such a dignified heir.”

James burst into laughter as they stepped into the common room, causing more than a few pairs of eyes to turn on them. “And... and not Druella?” he laughed, grinning. Tom’s standard mask allowed the occasional smirk, especially around James, and he didn’t bother to reply. The corner of his mouth quirked up and his eyes sparkled with amusement, though.

Their attention was shifted when Edward and Louis approached them. Both looked to be well-rested, and James offered a warm smile in greeting. They were dressed similarly to the small teen, in a waistcoat and dress shirt, even if the colors varied, and Louis had his school bag at his side. Tom glanced at each of them individually, eyebrow raised in silent question.

“We thought we’d wait for you two, instead of going up with the others,” Edward said. “I’d rather not endure Druella’s bad mood. She’s apparently noticed that you were getting pretty wound up, James.”

“Speaking of which, how are you doing?” Louis put in, looking worried. 

James sighed quietly. “I’m okay now, thanks. Tom and I had a misunderstanding, but it was pretty easy to fix. I didn’t speak up when it became a problem, so he had no idea what I was unhappy about.”

Tom subtly placed a hand on the small of his back, and nodded slightly. “James and I are both doing well, and I am ensuring he is content, as is my right. All it took was a bit of conversation to solve, after all. Shall we go?”

Aware that it wasn’t a request, both fifth year boys nodded and stood aside. Tom led James away, followed by Louis and Edward, and the left for the Great Hall. Once they were gone, attention in the common room shifted back to whatever activities it had left.

  
  


“Where were you two?!” Druella called, hands on her hips. James winced at the loud question, but Tom just ignored her and went to his usual spot at the Slytherin table. Abraxas was glowering at them, but refrained from commenting.

James replied, “Busy. I woke up later, and then we both wanted to shower, so it took a while to get ready.” Half-truths and vague information was the best route to take with Druella, since she could sniff out lies like a bloodhound. It was ridiculous. 

Appeased, the blonde girl returned to her seat. “You two have to be on time! I worry!”

Tom sneered at her. “If I wish to be late, I shall do just that, Rosier, and it would do you well to remember your place here. You may  _ worry _ all you wish, but do not try to tell  _ me _ what I can and cannot do. If you overstep your bounds again, I can and will punish you for the infraction, and your close friendship with James won’t protect you from that. Remember this.”

“I...” Druella stared in astonishment, and blushed. She had indeed forgotten what Tom was normally like, since he acted differently around James. She’d disappointed her lord, and he was completely correct. It wasn’t up to  _ her _ to tell Tom Riddle what to do. Not even James had that right, and Tom was closer to James than he was to any other human being. “I apologize, my lord. I stepped out of line,” she whispered soberly. 

Nodding in acknowledgement, Tom returned to his meal, and conversation shifted back to mundane topics. James glanced between the two, slightly torn on the matter. He would, of course, abide by Tom’s decision in the end. However, Druella had been one of his best friends ever since he’d met her, and he felt she was just acting according to her personality in that brief moment. Always the mother hen, the blonde girl liked to keep track of everyone and everything, leading her to be a bit bossy and a terrible gossip. The small teen felt a bit sorry for her.

She  _ had _ acknowledged Tom as her superior, though, and thus had to suffer both the good and bad consequences of that choice. James was glad Tom had become as attached to him as he was to the tall Slytherin. The young man held a commanding presence and an aura of darker magic that licked at the senses, and James couldn’t deny he found that attractive. Just as he’d expected when he realized he had a crush on Tom, James’ relationship dynamic with the charismatic boy was odd, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once everyone had finished with their meals, James got up to follow his lover towards the Entrance Hall and outside. The snow was lightly dusting the grounds at that point in the year, and it looked magical, no pun intended. Some hastily-cast warming charms prepared them for the long stroll into Hogsmeade. The original plan, before James blew up at Tom and they settled their problems, had been to go Christmas shopping. Or Yule, as the pureblooded students would rather it be. 

“Are we going to meet up with the others for lunch?” James inquired. 

Tom replied, “Not sure. If we happen across them in town, most likely we will. I haven’t made plans for it, though. If you’d rather return to Hogwarts, or go somewhere else to eat, I’d be happy to oblige you.”

Chuckling, James nodded eagerly. “If we do go somewhere else, maybe we can stop in Diagon? Hogsmeade won’t have what I want to get, for certain people. I  _ could _ always owl-order them, but since we have the chance... how about it?”

“Indeed,” Tom drawled teasingly, “and if we should be caught?  _ I _ am an upstanding young man and a model student, am I not? Should I allow myself to be led astray by a deviant like you? Poor Mr. Riddle, his partner is a natural rule-breaker!”

“Oh, you little–!” James growled playfully, turning to throw himself at the taller teen. He hit Tom with most of his weight, causing the teen to let out a little ‘oof’ and stumble back a few steps in order to maintain his balance. “And just  _ who _ is the deviant here, dear Thomas?” 

Tom smirked and swept James up into his arms, earning a surprised squeak. “Why, that’d be you, of course! I was such a well-behaved young man until you came along, my little raven. You’ve positively corrupted me, my James.” His voice was a smooth purr as he carried the smaller teen over his shoulder, ignoring the squirming the other was doing.

James huffed breathlessly, half-laughing, and cried, “Put me down, Tom!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he pondered aloud, grinning. 

Waiting for a few moments, James sighed when he realized that Tom was being serious. He wasn’t going to be set down any time soon, so he resigned himself to the ride, and tried to think up ways to get his lover back for the minuscule slight. A perfect idea popped into his head when he looked down to see Tom’s shapely behind.

Glancing around, the small teen swallowed nervously. No one was within view. If anyone had been, he wouldn’t dare do what he was about to attempt in a moment. Tom’s reaction would probably embarrass him, if he was seen, and James had no intention of ruining the manipulative and cunning Slytherin’s image. Since it was all clear, though, he could go ahead with his ‘evil’ plan. 

James reached down, pretending to let his arms simply dangle, occasionally brushing a hand over that lovely arse. He could feel the twitches Tom made every time it happened, and grinned evilly as he realized the impact his plan would have. Finally, after a few more seconds of accidental touches and another check to see if anyone was coming, he turned one of his light brushes into a full-on grope, squeezing his lover’s arse cheek roughly. 

Tom actually jumped at that, and James nearly  _ fell _ out of his hold. “James!” he shouted, quickly setting his little imp down. The small teen was smiling innocently up at him, and his eyes narrowed at the expression. “You little  _ imp! _ ”

James managed a straight face for one second more, before bursting into laughter, eyes gleaming in amusement and joy. Tom watched him, taking in all of the warmth and beauty the delicate young man held. To him, James was the epitome of aesthetically pleasing, and he didn’t even know when his opinion changed to that. It was overwhelming.

Tom reached out to James and grabbed fistfuls of shirt. A quick tug pulled the smaller teen into a deep kiss that stole their breath away. Green eyes widened in surprise, before fluttering shut in euphoria. Tom deepened the kiss until neither could keep it up. They broke apart, gasping for air, and James returned to laughing lightly. Tom smiled fondly at his little lover.

“So, Diagon Alley?” Tom asked curiously. “Do you mind terribly if we swing by Knockturn Alley when we’re there? I’d like to see if Borgin & Burke’s has some of the books I’ve been looking for.” 

Nodding, James agreed, “Yeah, no problem!” He straightened his shirt. “So, Hogsmeade awaits! Ready to shop?” He grinned at the grimace that flashed across Tom’s face. Neither of them were very fond of the extensive effort it took to shop for the holidays, even if neither of them had needed to do much of it in the past. 

Sighing, Tom smirked. “Best get it over with, right? Come on, then.” He offered his arm, and James cheerfully took it, beaming. The day was finally getting going, and things had been very nice, with the exception of the issue at breakfast. The two of them returned to their easy, ambling pace up the path, taking the time away from others to relax. The temporary peace was just what the two young men needed.


	25. Chapter 25

The rest of December sped by in the blink of an eye. Professors were assigning essays and reading to do over the break, and the students’ attention began to wane in classes. Everyone was anticipating the holidays with as much cheer and energy they could manage. Prefects were heard humming in the halls on patrol, the house elves had been setting up decoration, and all of the owls were busier than ever. 

In Slytherin, it was no different. The idea of a Christmas Truce wasn’t even considered, but everybody tended to be in higher spirits, so not much political maneuvering was being done anyway. Even Tom’s court was allowed to relax and enjoy themselves for a little while. More often than not, people could find them playing very competitive games of chess or reading a good book that had no educational value whatsoever. It created a relaxed atmosphere, and so the snake den basked in their moment of peace.

It felt very different from the atmosphere in Gryffindor Tower back in James’ time, and the small teen wondered once again why he’d not requested a resorting, or allowed the hat to place him where he should have gone in the beginning. The abnormal experience of Abraxas being giddy about something was always going to be one of his favorite memories from the forties and his time with Tom’s court.

“Tom! I’ve got the go-ahead, we can do it!” Abraxas shouted brightly. The letter he’d just finished reading was partially crumpled in one hand, and the teen was practically bouncing in place with excitement.

The dark-eyed Slytherin glanced up, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “Wonderful, Abraxas, you’ve done well. I take it my little raven is included?”

“Of course! James is a friend, why  _ wouldn’t _ I invite him as well?” the blonde teen asked, looking for all the world like a bird whose feathers had just been ruffled. “Honestly, Tom, you have so little confidence in me. Yes, there will be rooms prepared for both of you awaiting our arrival. Father has allowed it for the entire break, you’ll have no need to find a place to stay after the annual ball.”

“That’s a relief,” Tom drawled, still smirking. “There’s no need to prepare multiple rooms, though. James sleeps with me these days. My little raven and I always share a bed.”

Blushing slightly, Abraxas nodded. “Right then, I’ll let Father know. Are you in need of appropriate dress robes for the ball, or do you have them?”

Tom shook his head. “I will need to acquire some, but I plan to visit Diagon Alley over break, anyway. James has some things he needs to pick up, finished orders, or something. I’ll be getting my robes then, so there’s no need for you to purchase a set on my behalf.”

“Hm. Well, whatever you say, Tom.” He glanced around briefly. “Where  _ is _ James?”

“Oh, he’s enjoying a long bath. His muscles got a bit sore from all the flying he’d been doing yesterday, so he decided a long, hot soak was in order,” Tom replied. “I’ll explain the plan to him this evening, don’t worry.”

Abraxas nodded, and the two went back to discussing plans for the ball.

  
  


James tucked his feet under him, watching the game of chess Abraxas and Jerod were playing together. The winner would play Tom, and it seemed to be favoring the Malfoy heir at the moment. Chess games were a serious business in Slytherin. The students with the more strategic minds used the activity to keep their skills sharp and ready at a moment’s notice. It was fairly amusing to see how good some of the players were. Ron Weasley still would have been one of the best, but not by much, and he wouldn’t beat out Tom or Orion.

Louis sat down next to him and offered a mug of hot chocolate. In the winter months, the dungeons became freezing cold, and students were forced to used warming charms and bluebell flames to keep themselves from shivering. Hot drinks were almost always available during the colder months of the year, and there were tea leaves and packets of cocoa powder and sugar to mix together for delicious beverages. 

“Thanks,” James muttered, wrapping his fingers around the warm ceramic mug. The chilly air was the only thing he hadn’t preferred about the Slytherin dorms. Gryffindor Tower was always pleasantly warm, year-round. 

Louis shrugged as he sipped at his own cocoa. “You’re welcome. Who do you think will win this round?”

The two watched the game for a moment, before James answered, “Jerod, this time. He still has most of the more mobile pieces on his side, and he’s backing ‘Braxas into a corner. How about you? Think Jerod will win?”

“Oh, definitely.” The quiet boy chuckled. “It’s nice to sit and relax for a while. Now that exams are over until after the Hols, we can breathe a little.”

“Too true,” James commented. “Are you planning on returning home over the break? Tom and I have received an invitation from Nathaniel and Abraxas alike to spend the holidays over at their manors. Seeing as I don’t have a place to go yet, I’ll probably accept the invitation. That, or Tom already  _ has _ , for the two of us.”

Louis nodded slowly. He liked James, and counted the other teen among his closer friends. They could sit in comfortable silence together without an awkward need to fill it with speech. The small teen was a bit oblivious to certain social cues most people would pick up on, as well, and he flinched back from abrupt movements that the professors occasionally made. He was friendly and earnest in his desire to get along, though, and he had a good heart. 

“I’m returning home, for the most part,” he answered eventually. “The Malfoy family hosts an annual winter ball, and my family will be attending that. If I decided to stay, I’d be unable to meet my social obligations as eldest son and heir to the Mulciber family. Why do you ask?”

James shrugged a little. “I’m not sure, to be honest. You should take some time to relax and enjoy yourself over the break. You’ve been a great help, after Samhain. I’d like to think of you as a friend, if that’s alright?”

The boy gave a small, cheerful laugh, and nodded. “James, of course we’re friends. The moment my lord accepted you into our group, we had to tolerate you at the very least. You are easy to get along with, though, and you respect people's boundaries. I doubt anyone in Tom's group  _ isn’t _ friends with you, at this point.”

“Except for Lestrange…” James muttered, expression a mixture of sadness and unease.

Louis bumped shoulders with him. “I still don't know what exactly he and the others did, but Alex seems to respect you a lot more, lately. He doesn't even complain to me in private, any longer. If Tom’s anger was indicative of the seriousness of his offense, I'm surprised he's still walking around relatively sane and unhurt.”

The small teen shrugged uncomfortably. “They hurt me, a lot. Lestrange didn't really take part, though. I feel kind of guilty for not wanting him around me. Still, I don't think I can handle more than being distant acquaintances with him, for now….”

“You’re a Hufflepuff at heart, James.” He looked over at the small teen fondly. “No one else would feel guilt over wanting to be away from someone who hurt them.” 

The thin waif of a sixth year was always welcoming and friendly to the Slytherin students, and remained polite and kind to the other Houses. His snark and sarcasm was well-hidden, and no one would guess that he had a tongue razor-sharp when angered. He was a good balance for the distant but polite and helpful visage Tom Riddle wore around in public, and an even better match for the cold, cruel teen that lay underneath the mask. Louis really did respect him.

James smiled back, and laughed softly at the comparison, causing his eyes to light up. Yes, Louis was happy that the small teen thought of him as a friend, and that they'd all gotten the chance to get to know him. James was wonderful.

  
  


After dinner, back in their dorm, James and Tom sat next to each other on the couch, in front of a blazing fire. Tom was once again paging through an old book, one he’d picked up in Knockturn Alley the last time they visited. James observed him carefully, watching how his chest rose and fell in time with his soft breathing, how that black hair had a styled curl to it that James would never be able to achieve with his wild locks. The small teen tried to ignore the growing feeling in his stomach and simply relax, but it proved next to impossible.

After nearly half an hour of that uncomfortable need, James finally gave in. He carefully snatched the book from Tom’s long fingers, marked the page, and set it down on the coffee table. Dark eyes stared at him blankly, carefully hiding any sign of emotion. James took a deep breath and swung one leg over Tom’s, kneeling over his lover’s lap, and pressed his chest against the other teen’s. 

“Tom,” he muttered, “I need more. I feel so...” James couldn’t bring himself to outright say it, that he felt  _ horny _ beyond belief, and blushed at the thought. He wasn’t a prude, but he’d never had any sexual encounters before his sixth year, and even those were a bit limited. He swallowed thickly and licked his lips.

Tom stared up, eyes darkening further, and quirked an eyebrow. James bit his lip and ground down lightly to provide the delicious friction he needed. Strong arms rose to encircle his waist, pressing him further down on Tom’s lap. They both groaned at the pressure. James let his hands wander, one sneaking under his lover’s shirt, the other making its way into short, black hair. He leaned in and pressed a sloppy kiss on Tom’s lips, and that’s when it happened.

The dynamics were suddenly different. The hands around James’ thin waist tightened their grip harshly, and James gasped as his lover’s hips rolled to meet his own. Tom stole control of the kiss, biting down harshly on the small teen’s lower lip. A slick tongue took advantage of the small gasp James made, forcing its way into his mouth, and Tom dominated the kiss. He explored every part of that hot little mouth on his, growling quietly and pressing up against his little raven’s delicious body.

James didn’t even notice one of the hands on his waist sliding down to the button on his trousers, through the haze of the aggressive kiss. Tom undid the buttons and slipped his hand inside the trousers, fingers ghosting against James’ straining erection. His other hand was shifted to reach under the waistband as well, and Tom grabbed that pert arse, massaging it and drawing out delightful moans and whimpers from his James. 

Attention was drawn from the kiss by that, and the small teen shifted enough to reach down and undo Tom’s trousers, eager to get to his lover’s arousal. It wasn’t long before they were both kicking off the remains of their clothing. James was impatient, and wouldn’t let up on the kissing and grinding for even a moment, panting heavily against Tom’s neck. The taller teen’s hands returned to James’ arse and continued to grope and massage it, occasionally slipping down to tease at his hole, trailing a finger around the little pucker, drawing out full-body shivers from the thin teen on his lap. 

“Tom, Tom, I need you,” James keened, nose pressed against Tom’s jaw. “I need-”

“What do you need?” he growled, giving a hard squeeze to his lover’s little arse.

James squeaked, and bit down on Tom’s neck. When he gained control of his breathing, he whispered, “I need you inside me, Tom, I need your cock! I want your thick cock inside me, please, please, I can’t take it!”

Tom stood up, holding James to him with fingers sinking into soft flesh. The little teen’s legs came up to wrap around his lover’s waist almost instinctively, pressing their erections even closer together. With long, deliberate strides, Tom stalked to the bedroom and pulled James off of him, only to throw the lithe body onto the bed.

A jar of lube was retrieved from the nightstand drawer. Unscrewing the lid, Tom scooped some out and spread it on his length, giving himself a few hard tugs. The scent of vanilla and woodsmoke filled the room, and the tall young man joined his lover on the bed. 

“Ready for this, my little raven?” Tom asked hotly, voice rough.

James nodded, and mewled as he felt two fingers slip in him without pause. Tom pushed and slid his fingers deeper into his sweet James, reaching for that one spot. Once he’d hit James’ prostate, he started a quick pace and added a third finger. Under him, the green-eyed boy was shivering in pleasure, keening out Tom’s name in lusty pants.

It didn’t take more than a minute to finish preparing James, and Tom was almost as impatient as his raven, this time. Fingers were quickly removed to make way for something much bigger, and Tom pressed the head of his cock against James’ entrance. After a few seconds, the tight ring of muscles gave up fighting the intrusion, and he thrusted in to the hilt with one powerful push. 

James cried out in surprise, instantly clamping down on his lover’s thick cock, and dug his fingers into the bed sheets beneath him. Tom waited a moment for James to loosen up a bit before continuing. Once he felt the muscles around his member relax slightly, though, he pulled out to the head and slammed back in smoothly. His little raven cried out again, arching at the delicious feeling, and Tom set a brutal pace with his thrusts. He slammed into the small body beneath him, reveling in the way his James whined and squeaked at every thrust. He pounded into his lover and leaned forward to bite his thin, pale shoulder. On every push, Tom hit that little bundle of nerves, and stars blazed across James’ vision. All the taller teen could do was push deeper, thrust harder, move faster. One of his hands wrapped around James’ erection, tugging and pulling aggressively at the leaking cock. Tom could taste blood, and brought his little raven to completion with a few more pulls, relishing how James clamped down on his thick cock as if struggling to keep him inside. He kept pounding into the small body, balls slapping against skin, and rode out James’ orgasm until his own hit in a wave of pleasure.

Three more thrusts, each deeper than the last, and Tom buried himself fully into his little lover’s arse, filling James with his release. He slowly loosened his jaw, licking up the blood he’d drawn, and leaned back slightly to scan James’ face for any signs of unhappiness. The small teen had that blissful, angelic expression he’d had the first time they had sex, and Tom sighed in relief. He hadn’t been gentle at all, and he was slightly worried about his little raven’s reaction. It was for naught, though. James had apparently enjoyed the rough treatment as much as he’d enjoyed giving it. 

“My little raven,” he breathed in awe. “So beautiful. You take me so well, my James.”

The small teen under him whimpered slightly, a weak smile on his face. “Yeah. ‘M tired, Tom. Sleep?”

Tom nodded easily, reaching for his wand. “Sleep. Tomorrow I will fill you even more, until you’ll never forget that you are mine. You’ve done so well, my James. I’ll be right here next to you, all night, okay?”

“M’kay. Night,” James mumbled sleepily. His vivid green eyes slipped shut, and his soft breathing could be heard in the silence. Tom cast the spells to clean them up and slipped under the covers next to him. James was as close to perfect for him as anyone could get. The candles flickered out, and Tom joined his lover in restful sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE! IMPORTANT!!
> 
> I changed chunks of story from chapter 16 all the way to this. Some of them are only a couple words, while others are 3-8 paragraphs at a time. Feel free to go back and read them.

Morning came with a gentle awakening for both Slytherins. Tom rose to awareness first, enjoying the warmth of the thick comforter and the body pressed against him, and decided to simply wait for his little raven to wake up on his own. He used the time to think and plan, making the extra effort to ensure his plans were solid and could not be easily messed with.

Over break, he and James would be staying at Malfoy Manor with Abraxas and his family. Though he’d been invited to several other manors, most of those invitations did  _ not _ include his James, and that was unacceptable. To him, as long as he was courting James, everyone should treat the small teen as nearly equal to himself in power and influence, at the very least. His Knights of Walpurgis knew just how highly he regarded his lover. Anything less than that respect was  _ not tolerated _ . 

He and James would be attending the annual ball held by the Malfoy family at their manor, as a couple. As Druella had told his little raven, homosexuality was generally accepted in the magical community. Part of that was due to the ability to bear children through potions, but there was also the fact that people could be incredibly magically compatible, and that muggles tended to be small-minded and bigoted against anything different. 

At the ball, Tom would make connections and speak with influential people. Networking was an important part of his plans, and even though his plans had shifted with the introduction of James Granford, the Slytherin remained on the same general track, more or less. His followers would be introducing him to their parents, and he would need to make an impression on them all. Thankfully, his little raven was aesthetically pleasing as well as intelligent, and would probably be a great help if asked. 

Once the ball was over, he’d accompany James to bed, and in the morning presents would be exchanged. Tom was going to finish crafting the item he wanted to give James over the few days leading up to Christmas. He celebrated Yule first and foremost, but having grown up in the muggle world, his habit was to think of Christmas initially. Considering James was also partially muggle-raised, it was easy to assume the boy would celebrate Christmas. Given the importance the holiday had in muggle Britain, it was odd  _ not _ to assume such a thing.

After that, the remainder of the holidays would be spent relaxing. He might even take his little raven out for a day. The only dates he’d gotten to go on with James were restaurants in Diagon Alley or a day in Hogsmeade. Not the most romantic, nor what Tom would normally allow, as they weren’t  _ nearly _ good enough for the two of them.

Following this train of thought led to interesting and confusing emotions. He was just about to think on those more when he felt shifting beside him, and shrugged those thoughts off for later pondering. 

“Good morning, little raven,” he whispered. 

James blinked up at him, bleary, and grinned. “Morning, Tom.”

“It’s almost time for breakfast. Do you want to take a shower before we head up?” he asked curiously. “We’ll have to check over the room later, to ensure nothing is left behind when we leave. The Malfoys will be hosting us over the break.”

“Mm, okay,” James muttered. He stretched, sitting up, and winced. His shoulder stung and ached at the same time, and he was carefully turned to face his lover’s concerned gaze. The place Tom had bitten the night before was raw and trickling blood. 

Tom snatched up his wand and waved it over the bitemark, whispering incantations under his breath. After a minute of nothing much, he cursed. “It seems we’ll have to visit the infirmary before we head out.”

“Or we could ask Nate to heal me,” James suggested, face innocent. “He’s going to become a healer, anyway, isn’t he?”

Tom rolled his eyes and smirked. “Alright, we can ask Nathaniel to heal you,  _ but _ you also have to tell him about any issues you might be having, mentally. He’s studying Mind Healing, mainly, and will know how I can help you.”

James’ eyes widened, and he asked, “What makes you say that?”

Hissing, Tom stated, “You cannot lie to me, James. Something is going on with you, and I don’t know what it is. You’re insatiable, not that I mind, but it’s more than a simple adolescent sex drive. I haven’t seen anything of any mental issues stemming from what happened to you on Samhain, and  _ that _ is impossible. Something is wrong, and if you won’t tell me, you  _ will _ tell your friend, in confidence.”

Shivering, James nodded. He could feel that Tom wasn’t just angry at him for lying, but also disappointed that he wouldn’t trust the taller teen with his problems. “I... alright. I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s just embarrassing. I always feel... h-horny, and I have this burning  _ need _ for sex, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it makes me feel dirty until I can be with you.” He whimpered slightly, “What’s wrong with me?”

“I’m not sure, but we’ll ask Nathaniel about it,” Tom answered firmly, pulling James into his arms. “Is there anything else I should know? Anything unusual that bothers you?”

“Privacy w-ward,” James muttered, hunching his shoulders. He could almost  _ hear _ them asking for a privacy ward to be cast. The knowledge that no one would come, that he wouldn’t be rescued, terrified him. “No one was coming.”

Tom held James tightly in his arms, carding fingers through his little raven’s hair, waiting out the shaking, trembling fear. “Hush, James. My little raven. I’m here, I will always come for you. No one will touch you again, never again. You are  _ mine _ , and I will always find you.” He kept it up until the small teen calmed down. 

James sat in Tom’s lap, pressed to his lover’s chest, feeling safe and protected. “Can you get Nate?” he asked softly. “I don’t want to leave, yet.”

“Of course. Go and take a shower, I’ll return with Nathaniel,” he answered easily. 

James nodded, and the two finally separated. “Alright.”

  
  


The seventh year Slytherin sat down in one of the two armchairs, turning it slightly to face the couch. He had several books with him, most on Mind Healing, and a blank sheet of parchment to take notes on. Across from him, James was watching nervously, pressed into Tom’s side. Nate sighed in reluctance, but he agreed with Tom on the whole. James wasn’t healing much, the small teen hadn’t taken the time to confront his feelings and sort them out so they would no longer cause issues. This mini “session” was necessary.

“James,” the blonde teen began, “you have every right to withhold an answer to any of my questions. The only thing I want you to do is be completely honest with me when you  _ do _ answer, because if you lie or leave things out, we can’t help you get over this. Tom already knows most of what happened, right? I was there to help him punish the bastards who attacked you, and I don’t think any less of you for being unable to stop them.”

James nodded, biting his lip. Tom added, “And if it makes you more comfortable, you will never have to share this information again. Your closest friends know what happened, correct? I will do everything in my power to protect you, my little raven.”

“Alright,” James breathed, shrugging. “I don’t know where to start, though.”

Nate chuckled, smiling warmly at his friends. “That’s fine, I’ve got plenty of questions to help you get through it. Like I said, just be honest, and you’ll do well.” He paged through a book, scribbled a question on his parchment, and asked, “What kind of emotions are you experiencing these days? Anything unfamiliar, or negative emotions increasing?”

Tugging on his sleeve, James answered, “I feel kind of anxious a lot. I don’t... I don’t feel safe around most of the Ravenclaw students, anymore. Does that make sense?”

Tom interjected, “He also has an abnormally high need for sexual contact, these days.”

Quill scratching everything down, Nate frowned. “It’s expected, James, don’t worry. The need for sexual contact is unusual, though I think I’ve read something about it before. I know that typical victims of sexual assault are either sex repulsed or cope in non-sexual ways, but it makes sense that the opposite side of the spectrum is true, too.”

He snatched up one of the Mind Healing books and searched through the index for what he was looking for. Tom and James exchanged a wary glance, watching their friend page through the contents at a hurried pace, tip of his tongue sticking out slightly. It would have been amusing, in another situation.

“Aha!” Nate exclaimed, grinning. “I found it, guys! Alright, so, what you’re experiencing is something called hypersexuality, and it can be a common facet in certain personality disorders, or a method of coping with sexual abuse. It’s basically that your brain doesn’t want to feel bad about what happened to you, so it makes you seek sex out on your own terms, so  _ you _ have control of the situation. At least, that’s what I think it sounds like.”

“So, something traumatizing happened and James is coping by subconsciously trying to find a way to enjoy it?” Tom asked curiously. “That seems rather helpful, to be honest.”

“But that’s the problem; it isn’t necessarily helpful. There can still be situations that bring back memories of the trauma, and dealing with something like hypersexual tendencies can be a huge burden. When James doesn’t have access to you, his partner, and he’s feeling the need for sex, he might not always be able to control himself, and end up sleeping with someone else. It’s not a very good situation, all things considered.”

James blanched and his hand tightened painfully on his lover’s wrist. “Please, no...”

“Hush, my little raven,” Tom whispered soothingly. “I will just be sure to spend plenty of time with you, every day. Whenever you need it, I will be there for you. Haven’t I told you this already?”

“Yes,” the green-eyed teen admitted. He wrapped his arms around Tom’s waist. “You... you make me feel clean. I don’t feel dirty and used after sex with you.” He hesitated and blushed. “Am I even making sense? It sounds stupid.”

“I understand what you mean, James.” Nodding firmly, the taller boy stated, “Now we know, and we can plan accordingly. This won’t cause much of a problem, I believe. And again, I’m certainly not complaining.” His smile turned to a lecherous smirk, and he tilted James head up to devour him in a kiss.

Nate coughed lightly, bringing the two back to the current moment. “That’s the main reason you called me in, right? Is there anything else you’d like to talk about, or you’re curious about? I’ve got plenty of time.”

Flushing, James smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess. Tom and I both come from some... dubious homes, and I’ve got some lingering issues from that. Do you... do you really think I’m worth your time? It doesn’t feel real. I’m not used to people caring so much. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Yes! James, you are actually an amazing person. I’m glad Tom wanted to include you, that first day on the train. Entirely worth my time, as much of it as you need,” Nate pressed, a huge grin on his face.

Sighing in relief, the small teen offered a warm grin back. “Thanks, Nate. I’ll talk to you if I need something else, okay?”

“Of course.” The seventh year cast  _ tempus _ , and shuddered. “We’re late, Ella’s going to murder us...”

“She’d better not,” Tom growled lowly. He was still a bit miffed over being yelled at for being late, that first weekend in December. James pressed a chaste kiss on his lips and stood, waiting for the dark-eyed teen to join him. 

The trio gathered their things and left for breakfast, chatting comfortably about the upcoming holidays and what they hoped they’d get for presents that year. 


	27. Chapter 27

The week leading up to the annual Yule Ball was full of rare books, brief shopping sprees, flying in the snowy weather, and hot cocoa in front of a roaring fireplace. It was the  _ best _ holiday break James ever had. Not even the past five years at Hogwarts could compare to his stay at Malfoy Manor with Tom Riddle, his  _ lover _ . Just the word gave him a soft feeling of warmth in his chest. Tom and Abraxas had done a lot to prove that he was wanted and loved. Excellent progress was made, and the people in his company certainly helped. The Malfoy heir’s parents were very kind, and incredibly polite to their guests.

Now, James was dressing in the fine robes he’d been given by Tom for the ball, to ensure they matched well. His were a dark forest green silk with a pale green velvet waistcoat and gold accents tooled around the hems and sleeves, in the shape of snakes and celtic knots. His tie was done in gold, with the Granford family crest in black embossed in the center. It had a frock coat cut, and reminded James of that one show he’d seen on the telly that his aunt loved, that was about an old aristocratic family. Downton something-or-other. 

The set of dress robes Tom was wearing complimented his own nicely. They were a solid black with blood red accents and silver fastenings. His jacket was more masculine, but still just as elegant. It reached down to his mid-thighs with a small, triangular slit in the bottom, and the sleeves were tailored to give him more freedom of movement, ended with thick, folded over cuffs fastened with large silver buttons. His pants also had darker blood red piping down the sides, providing just enough contrast to be visible and more appealing. 

When Abraxas knocked on their door to retrieve them, he was subtly stunned. Tom had opened the door with an absent flick of his wand, not deigning to open it himself. The blonde boy watched his lord fix James’ tie in place with an elaborate knot and then smooth down the green fabric of the small teen’s jacket. The two of them looked striking together. 

“The ball will start soon, if you’ll follow me,” he stated finally, recovering his pureblood mask and giving them a faint smile. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Your choice in dress robes is quite good. I’m certain you’ll make a huge impression on everyone, tonight, my lord.”

Tom smirked. “That’s the plan. I’m just glad James has agreed to go along with it.”

“You promised me that I wouldn’t have to dance much,” James commented, shrugging. “I can deal with a group of pompous purebloods vying for political power. Dancing has always been my one true enemy!”

“Dramatic little raven,” Tom chuckled, taking James’ hand in his. “We’ve given you plenty of lessons over the last week to make you decent at it. You’ll do just fine, James.”

“You say that now,” the green-eyed teen muttered, eyes cast to the side. 

They followed Abraxas to the entrance hall of the manor. Tom and Abraxas chatted easily about the different people and families that would be attending that evening, leaving James to trail along behind them, distractedly gazing at the large portraits on the wall they passed. He hadn’t done a lot of exploring of the manor, and the small teen hoped to do more of that once Yule was over. It was such a big, elaborate home.

“James!” A familiar voice dragged him out of his thoughts, and suddenly he had arms full of shimmering fabric and golden hair. The small teen stumbled back a few steps, unused to people throwing themselves at him. “I’ve missed you!”

Tom sighed, and drawled, “Druella, please, do  _ not _ break my lover.”

James felt his face flush bright red, and couldn’t keep a tiny, pleased smile off his face. He and Tom hadn’t called each other that in public before. It made him feel weightless and fluffy, and he beamed at his lover when Druella released him with a pout.

“So, you’re telling people, now?” Behind the group, Nate appeared, grinning at them. His hair was artfully tousled, and his black robes had lime green accents with a gorgeous brocade pattern. “Congratulations, officially this time.”

“It’s pointless to keep it hidden. Neither of us have families to object to our relationship, and I couldn’t care less about what other people think of us. It’s not as if we tried to hide it in the first place, after all,” Tom replied smoothly, a warning tone in his voice.

“Of course not,” Abraxas scoffed. “The two of you look bloody beautiful together. I doubt there’s a single couple tonight who will look more dazzling than our own Slytherin power couple. I’ll even make it a bet! Five galleons says Tom and James are the best.”

Nate barked out a sharp laugh. “No bet, there’s no way anyone would beat them.”

James squeaked, and covered his red face. Tom, wrapping an arm around him, said, “Shall we move this conversation to the ballroom? I’d like to be there for the first dance. It wouldn’t do to be much later than we already are. Fashionably late allows only so much time, after all.”

Everyone nodded and followed the two teens into the other room, grinning and laughing at James’ flushed face and how innocent and cute he was. Not that any of them doubted his skills in offense and defense; they’d all dueled with Tom and James. The little teen was fierce as any, and packed a bigger punch than anyone. No, James might have an innocent personality, but he was a very powerful person.

  
  


Three dances in, James was pulled away from Tom. The music changed and the crowd shifted so quickly that the couple lost sight of each other in mere seconds, causing James to panic slightly. He didn’t recognize the person he was dancing with, and that made him incredibly anxious, after all that happened to him throughout his life. The man was relatively good-looking, but completely unfamiliar. 

“Such a dashing little thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, love?” the man asked sweetly, grinning down at him. He kept a tight grip on James’ hand and waist, preventing the small teen from pulling away. James shook his head, eyes scanning the crowd for a friendly face.

The man clucked sadly, and continued, “Oh, don’t be like that, love! It’s simply polite conversation, now isn’t it? Are you here on your own?”

“No!” James snapped, eyes wide. “I’m a close friend of the Malfoy heir. Abraxas invited me and my date, and I’d like to go find him now.”

“But the dance isn’t over, love,” the man murmured in James’ ear. His hand on the thin waist slipped down farther, until it was resting just above the rise of the little teen’s arse. James shuddered in revulsion and cast his eyes around again, desperately.

There! “Alex! Alexander!” he called, tugging away abruptly, pulling the man off-balance. He sighed in relief when he noticed the other black-haired boy turn to face him. The man was still holding his hand in a tight grip, and his other hand had slid forward when James tugged away to rest on his hip.

Alex’s eyes widened, and he offered a quick apology to the person he was speaking with, slipping through the crowd towards his friend. James pulled a little further, and then the other teen reached him. A strong arm slipped around his waist and a hand shot up to grip the man’s wrist painfully. 

“Excuse me,” he drawled, voice almost glacial, “but  _ what _ do you think you are doing with my friend, sir?”

The man let go as if burned, and James was herded slightly behind Alex. “Heir Lestrange! My apologies, I was just dancing with this stunning young man. Perhaps I got carried away, when he refused to give his name.”

Alex drew himself up to his full height, a couple inches shorter than Tom, and snapped, “If that is you getting  _ carried away _ , I’d hate to see you let loose, Lonstone. Did you offer him your own name first, as is polite? My friend was clearly giving you signals that he did  _ not _ want to be with you, was he not?”

“Ah, I didn’t–”

“No, you didn’t. If I catch you anywhere near him again, I  _ will _ curse you, and then report you to the DMLE for sexual harassment of a minor. And believe me, they will take  _ my _ word over  _ yours _ , Lonstone. Now,  _ leave _ .”

Alex watched with narrowed, rage-filled eyes as the man slowly slinked away, guilt clear on his face. He could feel James trembling slightly behind him, and slumped marginally. Why was it  _ him _ who had to be close enough to intervene? The Rosier siblings were much better at giving reassurance, and Abraxas was one of the hosts! Beside that, the small teen tended to avoid his company, reasonably so.

“James?” he asked quietly. “Are you alright?”

The small teen stepped out from behind him, and Alex winced. James was an unhealthy shade of pale, and his hands and shoulders were still trembling slightly. “I’m o-okay. Thanks- thanks for the rescue, Alex….”

The brown-eyed teen shook his head. “It was nothing, the least I could do for you. Where is my lord– I mean, Tom? He would have cursed that man so badly, St. Mungo’s would have a new patient in the Janus Thickey ward...”

James shook his head. “He pulled me away from Tom, and the crowd was too thick, I couldn’t find him. Can we tell Abraxas what happened? He can get his parents to kick that guy out, can’t he?”

“Sure. I think I saw ‘Braxas near the door.” He offered an arm, hiding his discomfort. “I won’t let you get separated from me on the way over, so don’t worry, James.”

“Thanks again, Alex,” James muttered, offering a relieved smile. “Let’s go.”

  
  


Graceful dancers parted at the end of the song, and Tom took the break in music as an opportunity to slip away. His James had been snatched away from him. He searched the crowd carefully, slowly moving over towards his followers. Abraxas and Nathaniel stood in the corner, and others were gathering around them, chatting and socializing, trying to bring outsiders over to their side. Tom appreciated their efforts, but he didn’t have time to think further on it.

“Abraxas,” he greeted lowly, eyes flashing. “James was pulled away.”

The blonde teen paled slightly. “Do you want me to have him found?”

Tom shook his head, glaring. “Unless you can locate him from where we are now, no. I need you here to discuss our plans for the...  _ afterparty _ . Send some of the others to find my wayward raven.” He drew his wand and traced it in the air, putting up a privacy ward. 

“Very well.” Abraxas turned to delegate the task. It took a while, but soon over half the group was out and about, searching the crowd for their newest companion. When he returned to Tom, the charismatic young man was perched elegantly on a wingback chair. One leg crossed over the other, a bored expression on his face, and elbows resting gently on the arms of the chair made him picture perfect. His large, slim fingers were folded over his wand as it rested delicately in his lap.

The young man smirked faintly at him, and commented, “You make a good second, heir Malfoy. Now...” He raised his wand and cast a privacy ward around them with a flick and some small gestures. “We need to discuss the afterparty.”

“What would you like to know, my lord? Everything has been set up, and my parents are none the wiser of what the true purpose for the meeting is.” Abraxas allowed a concerned look to enter his grey eyes. 

“Will they detect dark magic cast within the manor? Or more specifically, will they be...  _ concerned _ about it being cast? We must avoid interruptions for it to go smoothly, and I’d rather not be reprimanded by a lord and lady who have allowed the wizarding world to reach such a pathetic state of stagnancy.”

He sighed heavily, and Abraxas cringed. The truth shone every day in how their traditions were being replaced by muggleborns’ own, how there were no major discoveries and advances in magic being made. The wizarding world had grown complacent and content, a fat cat being gifted a bowl of cream less than a foot from its bed. Tom had a vision for them, and he had the power to back it up. The Slytherin boy was what they all needed.

Pausing to think about his answer, Abraxas slowly replied, “I believe... that they would be content to leave well enough alone... that is, as long as we notify them ahead of time that we do not wish to be disturbed. They are very distant, but doting, parents.”

“Very well.” Tom closed his eyes. “We are to initiate several more Hogwarts students this evening. Though I am reluctant to include him, James will be present for the process. I won’t hide these events from him at this point. He may be overly forgiving and unusually warm-hearted for a Slytherin, but he is an incredibly loyal person, also cunning and knows when not to trust. If he cannot handle it, I simply won’t request his presence in the future.”

“I admire your willingness to treat James well, and I have to admit, I’m impressed with how well you do in a relationship,” Abraxas complemented, smirking. “I would have thought you to be uninterested in the more carnal desires.”

“I wasn’t, really,” Tom admitted casually. “It is a good method of manipulation, however, I’ve never received pleasure from those acts until I met with James.”

“Hm. That’s interesting.” 

“Indeed,” Tom drawled, gazing out at the crowd.


	28. Chapter 28

Alex approached his lord and Abraxas from the side, staying closer to the wall for his current companion’s comfort. Apparently, James strongly disliked crowds and attention. It was only slightly surprising to the Lestrange heir to learn, mainly because the small teen was so charismatic and at ease in a crowded Slytherin common room. Still clinging to his arm, James started pulling forward a bit. Alex laughed lightly at the wide green gaze pinned on his lord. 

The Slytherin found it hard to believe that he’d ever felt animosity toward James. There was so much love and devotion in the boy’s emerald eyes when he looked at Tom, and he was so sweet and kind. Sarcasm and snark certainly made an appearance, but they were almost never meant to hurt others. It was strange for Alex to see his feelings towards the feisty little teen change so quickly, but he supposed it wasn’t that odd, given what happened. That incident opened his eyes and forced him to grow up a bit.

“Tom!” James called, keeping his volume low. He quickened his pace, a big grin on his face. The taller teen turned just in time to catch an armful of dress robes and his lover. “Sorry I got pulled away,” he added sheepishly.

The Slytherin’s eyes shone with relief. He held James to his chest and pressed a light kiss onto the smaller teen’s hair. “It isn’t your fault, my raven. Did anything happen while I wasn’t there? You look a bit pale.”

James sighed quietly, and replied, “Yeah, but it’s fine now. The person I was dancing with was really creepy. He kept hinting at wanting to shag me, and I was really starting to freak out, but then I saw Alex and broke away.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you curse him from the very start?”

“It’s Abraxas’ family’s ball! I can’t just go around cursing other guests, can I?”

At this point, the blonde teen decided to comment, “You most certainly can, James! I’d rather have the ball disrupted than you hurt. Or worse, based on what you said. Would you have cursed him if he tried to remove you from the ballroom?”

“Well, yeah! I’m not going to... that’s not gonna happen again. Not again,” James snapped back, giving a little shiver as his volume slipped to a whisper. Tom carded his fingers through James’ black hair after removing the hair tie, calming his little lover with the repetitive motions. “You think I wouldn’t? We’re not at Hogwarts, ‘Braxas, I’m not going to let my guard down again while I’m here. Tom, can I head to our rooms? I’m a bit knackered.”

“You  _ may _ , my little raven. Just don’t fall asleep, there’s still an afterparty for our people in the Green Room,” Tom replied suavely, fingers shifting from silky hair to brush along the small teen’s delicate jaw.

“Mhm.” James nodded amiably, eyes slipping shut under the gentle caresses. He was left wavering on his feet when Tom drew his hand back, and then turned to leave, a sappy grin the only lingering emotion.

  
  


Tom sat at the head of the table with his elbows resting on the edge, wand delicately clasped between thin fingers. His closest companions and followers sat at the mahogany table with him. Each person positioned according to their importance, it left Abraxas, Nathaniel, and James closest to the young Dark Lord, and all of the subordinates without a rank of importance stood silently around them in a loose circle. 

Tom cleared his throat, and everyone straightened in their places. “This is my penultimate year at Hogwarts. You are all aware of what that means.” His velvet tenor rose and fell gracefully, entrancing his audience. “The wizarding world has been in decline for a lengthy period, with more practices being outlawed or pushed aside for those filthy  _ muggle _ traditions. Our culture is dying, and creatures once held in high esteem for their knowledge and abilities are being labeled ‘Dark’ and ‘too dangerous’ to allow in polite society.”

There was an angry murmur of agreement from the assembled crowd when the young man paused. He smirked darkly, and rolled his shoulders, resettling more comfortably. Abraxas and Nathaniel shared a knowing glance, and waited for their lord to continue. Tom had several plans, both peaceful and violent, political and by conquest. 

“Pureblood supremacy.” Tom glanced around the table, and out at the circle of followers positioned around them in a protective ring. “You all know, as much as I do, that not only our culture is dying. Creatures, dark  _ and _ light, should be accepted in our society, should they not? Where have the traditions gone, my friends? Were we not once revered for our creature blood? It empowered our magic and gifted us with traits not normally held by man.”

Abraxas inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Of course, my lord. Our own family has continued honoring its creature blood, up to this day. It is accepted, and perhaps encouraged, for the Malfoy family to intermarry with high-class Veela families from France, our country or origin.” He raised his wineglass in a salute to Nathaniel, catching the small smirk on his friend’s face at those flowery words.

Tom nodded serenely, and raised his wand in an arc, casting a small illusion in the air. He whispered another incantation, and looked to James. “My James has also been doing a personal project during his time at Hogwarts. Imagine my surprise to discover that every mudblood he’s investigated was born of a long line of squibs from a pureblood family.”

Murmurs of malcontent and discomfort rose from the gathered crowd, but no one spoke out against their leader’s words. James blushed as attention shifted from Tom to him. 

“Why don’t you explain how you came across your findings?” the taller boy prompted.

James nodded shyly, and began, “I did an inheritance test to claim my lordships, after my family passed away. One of my direct relatives was a muggleborn, and I somehow inherited a minor lordship through them. Ancestry potions work on muggleborns, usually at least one side of the family, due to squibs. They, in reality, are all at least half-bloods.”

Someone James didn’t know asked, “So, what you’re saying is that mudbloods  _ aren’t _ actually mudbloods. That we shouldn’t discriminate against them.”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying!” James protested. 

“James is simply stating that they are not as dirty-blooded as we believed,” Tom snapped coldly, glaring at the offender. “They still bring in their own traditions and tear down our own. They still remain ignorant of our world’s traditions and customs, and enforce their own beliefs on the wizarding world. Consider mudbloods breeding stock, if you please.”

Abraxas chuckled lowly, and several others sneered or laughed outright. Now that the issue of blood purity had been addressed, they were able to move on to more pressing things.

The first thing proposed ended up being an issue with muggleborns’ wizarding education. Louis stood and scanned the room at large, a small frown on his face. “As our Lord said, the mudbloods bring their own traditions with them upon entering our society, and strangle our own when muggle-loving fools try to cater to their whims. What must we do to solve this issue?”

Nathaniel raised his hand briefly to claim the right to speak. “I have two separate issues in that larger problem that need to be addressed. One, since they  _ do _ have magical blood, should we welcome them into our society regardless? Two, if so, how would we enforce our own traditions and limit the spread of theirs?”

Tom simply looked on, content to listen and observe his followers. They were plenty capable of brainstorming on their own, if left to their own devices and provided with a starting point. Unsurprisingly, Abraxas had an answer ready.

“The results of James’ research are accurate, we could revitalize the wizarding world with the population boost the mudbloods provide. As James said, he inherited family names that were thought dead, only a part of our extensive history. If there are more of these dead families’ descendants, I believe it would be beneficial, long term, to accept the mudbloods into the wizarding world. At least, on a genetic standpoint.”

“We could revive families, true,” Jerod began, eyes narrowed, “but what of our traditions? As Nathaniel said, how would we prevent them from forcing out our own way of life?”

James shyly raised his hand. “W-Well, Tom and I have been considering this issue ourselves. I came up with an idea, of sorts, for a… for a mandatory class on wizarding culture?”

Next to him, Tom hummed, pleased that his James started to actually take part. “Go on, my raven. You have more to say.”

“Yes,” James admitted, sheepishly. He'd actually been quite passionate when he and Tom talked about wizarding traditions, and all the things he wished he could have learned. “As you know, I was fairly isolated as a child, and was in the…  _ care _ of muggle relatives at one time. There was so much I didn't know, arriving in our world, that I was lost. I didn't know what to do or how to act. I had no clue how to interact with the goblins at Gringotts, or whether the things on my school list were all I needed, or the bare minimum. Anything would've been a huge help, but I was alone and unable to learn.”

“That's why you suggested a class, then.” Edward’s eyes filled with understanding. “You had no way to access resources appropriate to gather knowledge of our society.”

“Indeed, it was so for me, as well,” Tom admitted. “Though Dumbledore took me to Diagon Alley, my first year, he didn't bother to explain anything to me unless I outright asked him about it. I can tell you now, that was an incredibly frustrating experience for my younger self.”

James reached for his hand, under the table, and squeezed it. They both knew what it was like to be lost in a world you were supposed to belong to. The idea of being an outsider in a place you belonged hurt.

“So, we plan to accept mudbloods, but with the requirement that they take a class on our very extensive culture. Should we merely include British wizarding culture, or have an overview of Europe as a whole? Or even foreign cultures, such as Egypt, African tribes, Polynesia, Japan, China, and the Americas?” Abraxas questioned.

Tom nodded slowly. “For now, let's plan on focusing on Britain and the other European nations in the magical world. We could have another cultural class offered on the more foreign cultures and societies, in order to honor other magical traditions from around the world. It would help our stagnation to look to other places for inspiration, after all.”

Abraxas allowed himself a little pleased smile, that his proposal was so positively received. He had more knowledge than most about other wizarding cultures, given his family's extensive library and thirst for knowledge. He also knew that his lord had an interest in any and all knowledge of magic he could possibly get his hands on.

“That's settled, then?” James asked, curious. “That's all it takes, to settle an issue like that? How will you go about making those changes?”

“It  _ is  _ a long-term plan, my love. Details are generally left to me and the people I delegate tasks to, so that things work more efficiently. Once I decide on a course of action to take, the rest of the process requires little attention,” Tom explained to him, gesturing smoothly with his free hand.

James nodded as he absorbed the information his boyfriend divulged. That was… actually simpler than he expected, and as Tom said, efficient. As long as he had competent followers, their plans would work well.

Edward began the next topic. “Moving on, if that's acceptable to my lord, I wanted to bring up the topic of creature rights. As you may know, my family is more invested in mid-level politics, and that includes rights for sentient and ‘dark’ magical creatures. We've been watching in frustration as the muggle-lovers continue to restrict their civil rights and our conservation efforts.”

“Magical beings are necessary to our own survival! Why in the world would any sane magical person do anything to threaten them?!” Jerod asked wildly, eyes wide. He hadn't noticed how bad thing had gotten for creatures.

In return, Edward shrugged. “Personal bias and general idiocy, I'm sure.”

“In any case,” Nathaniel continued, “we should make an effort to shift the political climate in favor of creature rights. As Jerod said, it's vital to our society, in every way.

“The more humanoid ones provide new blood on occasion, they all contribute to a healthy magical environment, potion ingredients depend on their continued survival, and it is simply their right as magical beings, to exist without worry that they will be forced into less preferable living conditions.” 

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out as a long, heavy sigh. “I feel disheartened when I think of today’s magical society. I, an orphan, only six years spent in this world, can recognize the prevailing issues that run rampant here. What should I expect from our people, that we might hope to continue our existence peacefully and without threat from the muggles?”

James watched on and settled back into his seat, relaxing as the meeting progressed in a calm and orderly manner. Eventually, it circled back to muggleborns and the problems they brought with them, and at that point, Tom called the gathering to an end. It was time to light the Yule log, and pray for the coming season, welcoming back the sun.


	29. Chapter 29

Rough hands gripped his hips painfully. James struggled to breathe through the overwhelming panic tightening around his chest. It couldn't be happening again. He couldn't remember anything leading up to that moment. The room around them was cold, a swirl of color twisting and churning like the nausea in his stomach. He fought against his assailant, unwilling to be raped again, and looked over his shoulder. The laughing face of Knowles morphed into the lecherous man from the Yule Ball.

A familiar voice called from the background and he couldn't see the person. They whispered and shushed his cries, and James finally placed the voice. Alexander crouched in front of him.

 _“Hush, James,”_ the dream-Alex said, eyes soft. _“I'll go get Tom. You're holding on so well, it'll be over soon, I promise….”_

* * *

 

  
    James gasped as he jolted from his nightmare. Tom was already awake beside him, fingers sliding through the smaller teen's hair to comfort him. Slowly, at a snail's crawl, James' breathing returned to normal and he managed to slump into his boyfriend's arms. It was just a nightmare. None of it actually happened, this time. He was safe. 

"Are you feeling better, little raven?" Tom asked, his voice low and soothing. 

James shook his head. His skin crawled at the reminder of what he went through, and the dirty feeling returned full force. "Please, Tom. Can we- can we do it now? It's... it was that man. From- from last night, and K-Knowles, and I don't want to remember that, Tom. Not Alexander, either. He- he said he’d get you, but he didn't leave! I can't let that stay in my mind, it's too much." 

Gently squeezing James, Tom kissed his forehead. "Anything you want, love. Tell me what's okay, and what's too much. I promise to stop if you ask, as always." 

"Please, can we go slow?" James couldn't swallow past the knot in his throats at the idea of being handled roughly, at that moment. It was too close to his nightmare, to similar in circumstance.    

"Of course." Tom undid the buttons on his partner's nightwear, one by one, drawing it out with chaste kisses spread across James' face. Deft fingers slid the silk aside and brushed up those smooth sides with seemingly infinite patience. There was no hurry, and his little raven wanted slow. He would gladly give it.

"James. I'm going to put up a _barrier_ . Is that acceptable?" he asked, emphasizing the word to hopefully avoid his lover's trigger.

It worked, and James found himself nodding shyly. The soft touches built up his arousal at the same time as it relaxed him, melting into the cushioned mattress. It was so good. Tom knew exactly what he liked, after over a month of sex.

The tall teen pulled out his wand and waved it, using a motion James hadn't seen before. Even that little thing showed him that Tom actually cared. He arched up into the touch when it came back, rolling his hips.

Tom chuckled, and leaned in for a kiss. James expected to kiss back, eagerly, but something about it made him want to vomit. He couldn't do an open-mouthed kiss. The minute he pulled away, Tom stopped all motion. 

"What is it, love?" His expression was dead serious. 

James grimaced. "I can't- kissing. Open-mouthed kissing, it feels- it's wrong, I'm sorry, Tom, I'm sorry, I just...." 

Tom leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "Hush, raven, it's okay. I'm not angry, or disappointed. I'm not even surprised. It's natural, my little raven, I don't begrudge you this." 

Gradually, James calmed down, and nodded. "Please keep going. I still want the rest. I promise I'll tell you to stop if I don't." 

"I had no intention of leaving you like this," Tom drawled, smirking. "Gentle, slow, and deep. Am I correct?" 

James let out a throaty moan at the thought. "Yeah... yes, Tom." 

Back to his soft touching, the taller teen mapped out his lover's body and focused his attention on the more sensitive erogenous zones. Soon enough, James was a moaning, panting mess, writhing under his partner.

"Please, Tom, Tom, Tom," he whined, legs spread and hips grinding against Tom's thigh. "Need you, Tom...." 

A low growl slipped from the larger teen, caging James in between his arms, knelt between those thin legs. His little raven knew exactly how to rile him up. 

Tom let out a breathy whisper by James' ear. "Who do you need, love?" 

"You! You, Tom, always you!" 

Pleased, he moved to slip those silky pajama bottoms off them both, helped along by his lover arching off the bed as his member rubbed against the waistband with delicious friction. In moments, they were bare, fired up and lustful. 

Tom slid down that slender body. He smiled at the extra weight his James put on, recently. He could no longer count every single rib, a clear sign of the tiny teen's improving health. Dark eyes met those beautiful green ones. 

"Would you allow me to try something new?" he purred. 

James nodded and flushed a brilliant red when Tom slid further down, lifting one of his legs to throw over the tall teen's broad shoulders. Something warm and slick pressed up against his hole, and he let out a little mewl. 

"Tom!" James cried when his partner's tongue breached that ring of muscles. "Oh, god!" 

Fingers curled around his upper thighs and squeezed enough to ground him through the pleasure, helping him focus on holding back his release. He wanted to come with his lover inside him. 

After a full two minutes of pleasurable torture, Tom finally pulled back. "You are simply splendid, my James. You make the most beautiful sounds." 

"Tom! Don't tease," James scolded, still flushed from being eaten out. 

Picking up his wand, Tom laughed warmly and spread warm lubricant on his hands, ready to fully prep James. "Of course not. I would never," he crooned. 

Two fingers slipped in from the get go, the little teen already relaxed by Tom's tongue. Again, the taller teen took his time, being gentle and making it as pleasant as possible to James. When he added the third finger, the lewd squelching made his cock twitch with arousal. 

"So good for me, James," he praised. “Such a good boy. You do so well, my raven.”

Finally, _finally_ , the small teen groaned as Tom pushed in, sliding smoothly into his body. The pressure was heaven. James always felt so full with his boyfriend inside him. Tom reached places that burst with pleasure, sparking through his body with each movement. Now, he rode the sensation to completion, already so close to the edge. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he came, seed spilling across their stomachs.

Tom was forced into stillness as the orgasm washed over his lover. Just having those tight walls clench against him had arousal curling in his belly. If he moved at all, in that instant, he would’ve followed James over the edge, and it would be a little while before they could pick up again. That wasn’t the plan, though, so the teen let his head fall back and breathed deeply.

When the aftershocks lessened, he rolled his hips, giving a shallow thrust, and drawing a whimper from James. Eyes suddenly focused on the smaller boy, he asked, “Love, are you alright? Do you want to stop?”

James shook his head. “So good, Tom. Want- want _more_ ,” he muttered.

Experimentally, Tom gave another shallow thrust. Another whimper met his ears, but the expression on his little raven’s face clearly displayed the pleasure it caused. Moving in earnest, now, Tom slid in deeper with each push, keeping up a slow drag, pulling out until just the head of his cock stayed inside. Once he brushed up against that little bundle of nerves, his raven came again, trembling with the force of it.

Tom pushed through another few thrusts before holding himself in as deeply as possible, possessive nature taking hold, and filled James with his cum. Those velvety walls milked his cock for every last drop, and he cast the spell to hold it inside, again. James was _his_ . His little raven would only remember _his_ touch, only feel _Tom’s_ hands on his body.

Pulling out, Tom pressed a kiss to the teen’s jaw and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Was that enough, my James? Is it better, now?”

Dazed, James smiled up at Tom. “Yeah… bloody _brilliant_ , as always, Tom.”

“I’m glad,” Tom said, sitting back on the bed. A quick _Tempus_ had him chuckling. “Your timing is amazing, little raven. It’s just long enough before breakfast to comfortably wash up and change into our clothes.”

That drew a huffy laugh from James. He winced, sitting up, but it wasn’t an unusual pain, anymore. Nor was it exactly unpleasant. The teen got used to that feeling almost a month ago. He slid out of bed and stretched his stiff muscles. “At least we got to sleep through most of the night. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Tom sighed, and shook his head. He looked over at James, and asked, “When am I going to get you fully realize that _I don’t mind_ being there for you, love? I wouldn’t offer if I had no desire to do so. You know me well enough to understand that.”

“Yeah, but… it’s still something I feel guilty for,” James replied. He shuffled over to the dresser and pulled out one of the soft, fluffy towels they were provided with. “You know _me_ , too, Tom. It’s going to take a long time for that.”

“Very well,” Tom said, taking the offered towel. “I will simply endeavor to make the time go faster, then.” James laughed, and they both made their way to the ensuite bathroom.

  


Breakfast brought with it the gift exchange. While all the purebloods didn’t celebrate Christmas, it was still a time of year to get together, and traditions held with the exchange of gifts. In fact, that’s where Christmas picked up its tradition of gift-giving. Yule was a pagan celebration in Europe for centuries, after all. It existed long before modern muggle religions, and hopefully would continue to exist for centuries yet.

Once they finished their meal, Tom led the group to a nearby room already prepared with snacks and refreshments, the coffee table covered in different people’s gifts. The house elves always pleased the Slytherin heir with how efficient they were. He took a seat in a large armchair, tugging James down with him. The others of his court arranged themselves around him and fell into easy conversation.

“Apologies, James, but my gift to you isn’t quite ready, yet. It will be done within another day or two, though, so you do not have long to wait,” the teen said quietly, head tilted towards his boyfriend as he observed the other people in the room.

James grinned. “It’s fine, Tom. I’ve got my gift for you, though.” He pulled his wand out of the magical holster at his side and cast a wordless _accio_ to summon it to him. The small package freed itself from the pile, causing others to wobble dangerously. Catching it with his excellent Seeker reflexes, James handed it off to the other teen.

Tom scanned the packaging, simple in appearance, and undid the ribbon, first. He was too cultured to simply tear into it like some of the others did. He also appreciated Yule or Christmas gifts too much to do that when they were wrapped with care. The paper fell open when the ribbon came off, and a small box awaited him. He lifted the lid, and peered inside, overtaken by curiosity.

A small pendant sat in the velvet cushion, about the size of a walnut, and made of a green stone. The creator etched different runes into its surface to form a rough circle, and the Elder Futhark rune for potential was carefully placed in the center and rubbed with gold leaf. The back rubbed against his fingers, and Tom flipped it over to reveal his initials set above James’ own initials. Suddenly, he understood.

“You made this.” It wasn’t a question to be answered. They both knew the small teen had, indeed, crafted the pendant for Tom. It was simplistically beautiful. The chain was actually a leather cord anchored to the stone by a metal loop set in a small hole at the very top of the pendant. The length of the cord caused it to fall mid-sternum on Tom, perfect to hide beneath his shirt if he didn’t want it to be seen.

James reached over and brushed a finger across the center rune, pushing a bit of magic into it. The other etchings glowed in response, and it emitted a faint warmth. “I wanted to get you something more personal. Buying a present from a store just didn’t feel right. This was actually my last project for the term, in fact. Only the professor saw it before you did.”

“These are… runes for several different things, James.” He examined it closer. “You made the focus long-term success. Eihwaz. Protection, power, luck, success… it’s truly fitting for me, isn’t it? You are very clever, my little raven. I adore it.”

A huge grin spread across James’ face, making his cheeks ache. “I’m really glad! I know you aren’t one to wear jewelry, but you’re fascinated with magical artifacts in general, so I figured you’d be pleased with something simple and easy to hide, but _practical_ above all else.”

“Oh? Our lord received a good gift from James?” Abraxas finally paid attention to the two teens cuddled up in the armchair, eyes falling on the pendant in Tom’s hand. The glow just began to fade away when he glanced over.

Tom sighed. “Of course I did, Abraxas. James knows me more than well enough to make an impressive choice. He’s certainly improved in Ancient Runes, as well.” He held the pendant up higher, catching the whole room’s attention, and unfurled his magic. The stone pulsed along with his aura, and the heat from it grew into a comfortable blaze, like sitting in front of the fireplace in the winter.

He smirked at their awed expressions and interested gazes. James created this piece for his final project, then it was likely no one else would be receiving handmade gifts from the teen. That added bit of favoritism caused him to preen internally. His James really was a clever young man, perfect for Tom’s partner. He hadn’t regretted meeting the other teen, not even once, since reaching the Hogwarts Express on September first.

“It’s been a quarter of a year since James joined us, and I believe his presence has only benefited our group. I, for one, am glad he decided to attend Hogwarts this year. It could only be made better by having him attended previous years, as well,” Tom declared, making his boyfriend blush brightly.

“Hear, hear!” Nate called, grinning at the couple. “It’s been great having you with us, James! You’re always welcome in the Rosier Manor, if you need anything.” Druella nodded along with her brother, affirming his statement. They were some of James’ closer friends.

Comments of agreement rose from the small crowd, and the gift exchange really got underway from there. People pulled their packages from the pile and handed them out to each other, and once everything had been unwrapped, they showed off and admired each gift. The snacks were polished off and tea consumed. By the time lunch rolled around, everyone felt relaxed and content.

  


Sure enough, a day later, Tom presented James with his gift. It took the prodigy no small effort to craft, but the end result was worth it. In addition to the primary item, Tom added in one of his simpler crafted items, a weather-retardant cloak pin in the shape of a sleeping snake. He’d made them often since his first year in Arithmancy, always handing them out with the other presents he gave his closer followers. That hadn’t taken much effort; it was the primary item he crafted for James that took so much work.

A thin, silver bracelet rested in James’ hand after he unwrapped the small box. Tom pointed to the single emerald set in the bracelet. “That’s a focus point that binds the spells together. This will act as protection from _any_ minor hex or curse, and it has a built-in alarm connected to my wand. If you say the password, it will go off, and help me find you. _I will protect you, James._ I promise that I will help you if you have need of me.”

Tears welled up in deep green eyes as James slipped the bracelet around his wrist, watching as it resized itself to fit snug against his skin. No one would be able to remove it, not without breaking it. He stepped forward and pressed himself against Tom.

“The word to resize it is ‘ _abrir’_ and the alarm word is ‘ _aeternum_ ’ - one second,” he said, pausing to pull out his wand and whisper another keyword. _Ewig_ , German for eternal, matching the latin keyword for the alarm spell. “As you can see, it works.”

James laughed wetly, and tilted his head up to kiss Tom’s jawline. “Thank you. It’s perfect, I love it.”

Tom leaned in, and asked, “May I kiss you?”

James closed the distance, and sighed as he melted into the deepening kiss. Perfect.


	30. Chapter 30

Returning to school brought with it a sense of normalcy for James. After the fiasco that was Halloween, he'd still been cautious and worried about his place as Tom's boyfriend. Logically, he knew that the taller teen wouldn't give a damn, but the worry remained. Now, though, James felt safe and secure with his partner. The Yule gift he received was proof enough of Tom's care for him.

Classes took his focus as the days passed, and James loved learning more about magic and the magical world. Druella and Abraxas arranged a series of supplemental lessons on wizarding culture, after hearing about the lack of knowledge James had on such an important thing. Especially since he held a minor lordship in the British wizarding world, Abraxas said. Some of the things they taught him proved to be incredibly dull or dry, things like old legislation and the importance of certain products to their economy. Tiny nuggets of interesting information always made up for it, though, and it was definitely something James needed to learn. 

On his way back from Care of Magical Creatures, a slight pressure caught his attention. He turned and scanned the hallway, catching sight of a few seventh year Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw. One of the Gryffindors scowled at him, and advanced, wand out. James backed up a few steps, hands raised to pacify them. The Gryffindor strode right up to him and pointed his wand at James' chest. 

"You're just a snotty little upstart here, Granford," the teen sneered. "Stay the bloody hell away from our House. We don't need the likes of you influencing our best students. Whatever you did to manipulate Potter and the others, you'd better stop it before you get hurt." 

James frowned. "But I didn't-" 

"Shut up!" The lone Ravenclaw moved forward, then. "I know it's your fault Mason and Knowles got arrested. I don't know what you did, but I know you did something to cause it!" 

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you mean!" James cried, trying to convince them of his innocence. Technically, the Ravenclaw was right, but the small teen wasn't manipulating Fleamont and Charlotte into being his friends. They did that on their own account, and certainly nothing James did would’ve externally influenced them into it. 

The Gryffindor that shouted at him threw a punch suddenly, and James wheezed as the air was knocked out of him. He stumbled back and hit the wall, wincing. Obviously, the violent boy picked up on the fact that his mild hexes wouldn't work. It was odd to see a wizard turn to physical violence like that. 

"Keep my warning in mind, Granford, and do something about it. You won't like the results, if you don't." 

With those parting words, the boy stalked away, a self-satisfied smirk spread across his lips. James watched him go, the other seventh years following the teen's lead. If this kept up, James might not be able to handle it. He thought he was done with physical abuse, now in the 1940's. 

Once he caught his breath, he stood back up and straightened his robes, hissing as the new bruise throbbed painfully. If he hid this from Tom, it'd be better in the long run. The prefect would go after the other students with aggressive force. 

So, James got a grip on his composure and hid the pain like he usually did. When he got to lunch, he smiled at his friends and took his place next to Tom. The taller teen gave him a charming smile in return, and quiet conversation picked up. 

"How are your classes so far, my little raven? Just as interesting as last term, I hope?" Tom inquired. 

James nodded happily. "I'm very happy with Ancient Runes. It was a good choice for me, and the more I learn about warding and enchanting, the more I'm sure it's what I want to do, eventually. That, or be a teacher. It seems rewarding, actually." 

"Those are both highly respectable jobs," Louis commented quietly. 

Next to him, Jerod sighed. "Well, teaching isn't, really, but it should be. Hell, Tom's expressed interest in teaching, too!" 

James whipped his head around to stare at his boyfriend. Tom just regarded him regally, one brow quirked in question. It made James chuckle. 

"You would make a good teacher, Tom. You've certainly taught me a lot," the boy said, grinning. "I think you should do it. If it makes you happy, it's worth it, right?" 

Tom hummed pleasantly. "Right you are, James. It certainly does hold benefits I desire. Being able to shape the minds of future generations and ensure their competence is appealing." 

"That makes sense," Alex agreed. "And Tom is more than capable of paying attention to multiple things." 

"It wouldn't impact his plans, really," James mused aloud. Tom was, as Alex said, more than capable of working on two plus things at once. Planning the takeover of the wizarding world could be easy if he had followers like the Knights of Walpurgis in the cards. 

"I'm glad you comprehend that," Tom drawled, smirking. "You could do that as well, love. I doubt anyone would begrudge you to have a side job as a professor or a warder, depending on the path you choose for yourself." 

Flushing at the subtle compliment, the small teen offered another smile. Lunch was nearly over, and they all went back to polish off the remainder of their meals. The group paid quiet attention to the amount of food James ate these days, and it finally reached normal portions over the winter holidays. Contentment settled over them all like a warm blanket.

 

  
That first instance wasn't the only attack James experienced, over the coming weeks. He believed he could defend himself adequately, since he now knew that the perpetrators would use physical violence when spells failed. He thought that he'd be able to handle it, and let it slide by unnoticed. And, for a while, he was right. 

It was getting into the third week before the aggressive Gryffindors stepped things up. James hadn't mentioned anything to his friends in the House of the Brave. Maybe they would've tried to stop it, but word would've inevitably gotten back to Tom, and the prefect then would go and escalate the situation. It really wasn't necessary, until the third week rolled around and things got worse. 

Instead of a couple punches and some rough threats thrown around, one of them shoved him to the ground and landed a strong kick in James' gut. The Slytherin vomited, unable to keep his last meal down because of the harsh blow. He distantly heard laughs. Pain blossomed on his thigh as he found himself kicked into his back.

One crouched down by his head, and James stared up into the Gryffindor’s cool, brown eyes. The ice in his stare didn't match the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One of his hands clutched James by the cheeks and lifted him up just a little.

“You still haven't done anything to free Abbott, West, Potter and Falkner from your manipulations, snake. I warned you about this; we don't make empty threats,” he growled.

James almost laughed at the older teen’s last comment. This was in _no_ way comparable to what Tom did to the people who angered him. They thought they frightened James, maybe, but the Slytherin knew of pain far worse.

Something of his amusement must have shown on his face, because the Gryffindor’s face twisted in ugly rage, and he shoved James’ head down onto the stone. Black spots danced as James struggled to stay focused on his attackers and surroundings.

“Fine,” the boy snarled, standing at full height. “Be that way.”

One of the others kicked out, not hard, but enough to jostle James. He glared up at them. Submission obviously hadn't worked to calm them down, and there was no way he could comply with their demands. That left fighting back.

James levered himself up on one elbow and wiped his mouth clean of the mess he made earlier. “I _can’t wait_ free Fleamont and the others, _because they're not being influenced!_ ”

This time, the teen who spoke lashed out violently, and James heard a rib crack. He sucked  in a deep breath, side screaming in pain, but didn't falter. He suffered cracked ribs before.

That seemed to be enough for the moment. The Gryffindors and their Ravenclaw friend shot poisonous glares as the strolled away down the hall. They left him lying next to a puddle of his own vomit, in pain and badly bruised.

The only thought running through James’ mind was that he had to nick some Skele-Grow from the hospital wing before meeting up with his friends.

  


The group laughed at a story Abraxas told, gesturing dramatically to entice his viewers further. Tom wrapped an arm possessively around his boyfriend’s waist, a faint smile softening his sharp features. Beside him, James allowed himself to relax into Tom’s hold despite the throbbing ache in his side.

The Skele-Grow wasn't hard to get, and if he hadn't been so pressed for time, James would've just made the stuff. Instead, he took the required dose to heal his cracked rib and replaced the bottle where he found it, via a levitation spell. The matron had an alarm spell on the entrance to the ward, after all. He spent enough nights there to know that.

Skele-Grow only healed bones, though. The bruising and other damage remained. It was a little hard to hide his injuries from Tom, and they still slept together, even when they didn't have sex. The intimacy reassured James. However, it _really_ made it hard to hide.

Four days passed since that incident. He caught his attackers staring at him, from time to time. He made sure he rarely went anywhere without another person, only venturing through the dungeons without an uninformed escort. No trust in Hogwarts itself could make him let down his guard. Not with that threat waiting.

And yet. _And yet_ , they still managed to find him alone and corner him again on _three_ separate occasions. Honestly, James got tired of it. He tried fighting back with magic, and they took some nasty curses by the time they overwhelmed him, but it wasn't quite enough. He tried to fight back physically when magic failed him, but James was _small_ , the size of a second or third year student. He was toned because of flying, but not strong, because of years of malnutrition and abuse. Needless to say, _it didn't work._

By the time _fourth_ time the group found him, James was done with it. He no longer gave a damn what Tom would do to them after finding out they hurt ‘his little raven’ so many times. Three blows in, and James gave in.

“ _Aeternum…_ ” he hissed, almost slipping into Parseltongue. The metal of his bracelet heated slightly, and the emerald flashed. It might not be immediately, but Tom would know. He would come as soon as he could.

One of the students grabbed him by the front of the robe and slammed him up against the stone wall, knocking the wind from him. James watched the boy’s arm pull back for a punch and clenched his jaw.

“HEY!”

A loud shout from further down the hall caught _everyone's_ attention. It wasn't Tom. The voice was too rough, and too audibly angry, to ever belong to the Slytherin prefect.

There, in all his glory, stood Fleamont Potter. Backed by Charlotte and Elliot, he led a veritable charge down the hallway, wand at the ready. The righteous anger of a Gryffindor facing up his opponent always stunned James, _and he was one of those_. The irony didn't escape him, and he watched with stars in his eyes as his friend-slash-grandfather came to his rescue.

“THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?! Let him down! Why in the _world_ would you attack James?!” Fleamont yelled, still brandishing his wand at them.

Charlotte took a single step forward and one of the older boys folded like paper, dropping his wand and shifting back away from her. Ah, the results of paying back a bully. She grinned.

“He’s just controlling you, Potter!” The leader glared at James. “This damned snake comes in at the beginning of the year and charms you all into doing his bidding!”

Fleamont gave him an incredulous look. “Are you _mad?_ Sniffing potions, or something?”

Snorting, the fiery girl crossed her arms and rested back on her heels. “Nah, they're just dumb. And mean.”

She looked to the line Ravenclaw. “And you? Ravens aren't supposed to be that daft. I'm honestly a bit surprised.”

The boy growled in response. “He’s the one that got Knowles, Mason, and Kimberly arrested! Hasn't even bothered to deny it!”

“ _Maybe_ they got arrested because they deserved it for what they did!” Elliot argued, casting a stinging hex.

The Gryffindor holding James up dropped him, and Fleamont rushed forward to scoop his friend up off the ground. He looked over his shoulder and nodded curtly at Elliot and Charlotte before taking off down the hall again.

“Where…?” James asked, throat dry.

Fleamont rolled his eyes. “The hospital wing, of course. You're hurt, aren't you.” It wasn't a question. The Potter scion knew better by now. “I'll get you there, and then go find Riddle.”

James gasped. “Tom! Oh, gods, he’s going to be looking for me. Fleamont, if you value your life, _hurry_. If he finds you carrying me, he’ll hex first and ask questions later.”

“It's a good thing we’re already there, then, isn't it?” the other teen said, grinning. He pushed open the large doors and strolled over to deposit his friend on the nearest bed.

The matron hurried out of her office and cursed under her breath upon spotting James. “Granford, can't you go two weeks without gracing me with your presence here?”

He sighed. “Wish I could, Madam Marsden. Most of it's out of my control.”

The door swung wide open before anyone could comment further. Once again, Tom’s magic slipped free of his tight control and lashed wildly around him. It only calmed slightly upon its wielder catching sight of James. Beside the small teen's bed, Fleamont shivered a bit.

That rage became focused when Tom turned to the Gryffindor. “Who and where.”

“Ahaha… Riddle, you, um, might want to calm down a tick before heading off in search of blood. I'm fairly sure that… that James wouldn't want you in trouble on his behalf,” the other boy answered cautiously. Thankfully, it was the right thing to say.

“You are…” Tom began, pausing to take a deep breath, “... correct. Apologies, Potter. You have my gratitude for standing your ground.”

James grinned at the interaction. Obviously annoyed at having to thank the Gryffindor, Tom still appeared to respect Fleamont well enough to bother listening. If it were some random student with average skills or intelligence, the prefect most likely would have completely ignored them.

“James.” Tom turned to his lover. “What happened? Are you safe, now? I'm sorry I failed to arrive fast enough.”

The small teen shrugged awkwardly. “There were some seventh year students, and they attacked me.”

Fleamont scoffed. “Sorry, James, but that was a bit more than an attack. They've been doing that to you for a while, now, haven't they?”

Tom’s eyes narrowed as James nodded miserably, swallowing past the knot in his throat. “I could deal with it, at first. It was nothing to worry about. Just a couple punches, maybe? I've had loads worse just with my relatives.”

“That was… beyond a couple punches. They hadn't even gotten started on you!” The Gryffindor teen seemed enraged on his behalf, and James offered a weak smile.

“Yeah… it got to the ‘loads worse’ part after three weeks,” he explained. “They thought I was manipulating you, Fleamont. You and the other Gryffindors.”

“Bloody hell,” Fleamont said.

“That sums it up nicely,” Tom muttered, eyes glazed as he plotted those students’ demise in a gruesome fashion.

“It's fine! I'm alright, now, and you two know, so I doubt they'll try again,” James cried, worried and slightly ashamed. “It's really fine, Tom, you don't have to do anything. Really.”

“You tell me everything they did to you, and I will take it to the proper authorities.” The prefect stared James in the eyes, holding his gaze. “If you allow me that, I will step back and hand the situation off to someone else.”

James breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his agreement. He didn't want to lie to Tom, though he’d been lying by omission since the start of January. There would certainly be some sort of punishment in the near future for that.

“Madam Marsden, would you mind doing your scan so that I may take my little raven home? I'm sure he's exhausted after the stress of this afternoon.” Dark eyes shone imploringly, and the matron simply smiled.

“Of course, of course,” she said, pulling out her wand and stepping back over to them. She stepped away earlier when it was clear her services weren't immediately necessary. “Give me a few moments, Mr. Riddle, and I'll have him done for you to look after.”

Tom smiled charmingly, and then nodded to Fleamont. “I would like to speak with you at a later date, about this. Would you be adverse to meeting in the library tomorrow after dinner?”

The Potter scion shook his head. “I'll be there. The gods know I certainly have enough homework that could use some extra references before I turn it in.”

“Good. Half an hour after dinner ends, I will be arriving in the library. I will be sitting near the spell history section.”

He turned to James, who slid off the hospital bed and winced slightly as his ankle complained. It twisted slightly when he landed on the ground, and if it hadn't been supremely embarrassing to the small teen, Tom would have simply carried him back to their rooms in the dungeons.

“Let's go. We have plenty to talk about, my James,” Tom drawled, offering his arm.

Despite the trepidation filling James, he accepted and hooked his arm with his boyfriend’s, allowing the taller teen to lead them away.


	31. Chapter 31

"Tell me what they did, first. We'll deal with the rest once I'm aware of any and all possible injuries." 

Tom settled on the couch in their set of rooms, arms held open to welcome his little raven into his embrace. In the end, he held more anger at the trash who attacked his James than he did with James for hiding it from him. Tom understood his lover, and knew the reasons James had for keeping that kind of thing secret. 

"I didn't like hiding it from you," James muttered as he took the invitation and sunk into his partner's arms. 

"I know, love," Tom whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to James' temple. "Just tell me what they did." 

Sucking in a breath, he steeled himself. Once he got it over with, they could move on and talk. "Towards the end of the first week back, some seventh year students cornered me in the halls. They were angry with me for being friends with Fleamont and the others... they thought I used magic or something to manipulate them into it." 

Tom made a displeased noise, and nodded for James to continue. "So,  they warned me that I had to 'free them' or they'd get violent. They punched me, but it wasn't bad at all." 

He gestured to his stomach, and grimaced at the memory. "Really, I just had the wind knocked out of me." 

"That's still harming you, love," Tom said, frowning. "Even just that." 

James shrugged, and continued. "That kept up for three weeks. Just some harsh words and a couple punches. They got more angry every time, though, and it blew up at the end of February." 

He placed a hand over his ribs where that hardest kick landed. "I got kicked hard enough to make me throw up, and then threatened even further. One of them slammed my head on the ground, and then they cracked a rib. I had to steal some Skele-Grow from the hospital wing so no one would notice." 

At this, Tom's eyes glinted in anger, and his hands clenched into fists. "And I was wrapping my arm around your side." 

"N-No, it's okay! Like I said, I got some Skele-Grow before meeting up with anyone!" James protested, wide-eyed. 

"We both know that doesn't heal the bruising, or function as a pain reliever. James, I accidentally hurt you," the taller teen argued, frown deepening. 

"Only because I didn't tell you." While his boyfriend was stubborn, so was James. He knew Tom would have refrained from doing anything that caused him further pain, had he known about the injury. The only one to blame was James. "You aren't at fault for that." 

Frigid anger filled Tom's eyes. "No, I'm not. Neither are you, my little raven. The blame here lies entirely on those who would do such harm in the first place." 

He let the anger roll over him in waves, protectively clutching his lover to his chest as revenge plots swirled in his mind. James shivered and peered up at him, and those green eyes weren't filled with fear. There was awe and arousal, instead. 

Not for the first time, Tom wondered how he'd gotten lucky enough to court such an intelligent, gorgeous young man. That he felt interest instead of fear at Tom's rage, it left the Slytherin heir breathless. 

"That... that was the first real attack," James muttered. His hands trembled just a little. "By the fourth one, I got fed up, and called you. Each one ended with a broken bone or two, and me throwing up or getting knocked around and dizzy." 

"You called me, so how did you end up in the hospital wing with Potter?" Tom inquired, voice calming. 

Green eyes brightened. "He, Charlotte, and Elliot happened down the right corridor at the right time! Fleamont shouted and got their attention, they yelled some things, and then I hit the ground. He picked me up and headed for the hospital wing, where you found me. It relieved me to see someone coming, and the knowledge that you were on your way did wonders to keep me calm." 

James tucked his head under Tom's chin, curling up and snuggling into his lover's warmth. Tom gently stroked fingers down that curved spine. Both took comfort in the physical touch without any deeper meaning to it. They were together and safe. They could work things out.   


 

"So, Potter is taking care of informing the professors?" Abraxas asked, quirking a single eyebrow.

Tom shrugged elegantly. "I plan to inquire about it tomorrow night. Either way, I've already agreed to pass judgment off to the staff. It's no longer my concern." 

"So, how is James doing?" Abraxas paged through the book on his lap, glancing at the potion recipes. 

"He's recovered. Magical healing has always been something of a favorite of mine, ever since I learned of my heritage." 

Tom stood, gathering his parchment and textbook, then nodded to the blonde teen. As he left the alcove they claimed for studying, the prefect considered the many things he needed to do before the end of the school year. His plans required more delicate timing than what he'd trust most of his followers with, though they'd proven their competence time and again. Not only that; there were just some secrets that had to stay secrets. 

He had to inform his knights of James' punishment for lying by omission. After deep contemplation, Tom finally decided on restricted privacy for his little raven. It was the most sensible thing he could come up with, given his reluctance to cause his lover pain. Distance would do them no good, either; Tom was possessive to hell and back, and James already lacked self-esteem. Separation could only do them harm, at this point.    

That solved one of Tom's smaller issues, and any progress was good progress. He knew the location of a place he'd been searching for since first year, and that was another problem solved. One of the books from the Restricted Section addressed a solution to a phobia of his, and well. Tom wanted to ask certain people about that solution, but it appealed to him the most. Again, he had much to do and little time to do it in. 

Time was running out, and Tom wanted to have everything prepared by the time his graduation rolled around.   


  
James pressed up against his boyfriend as they wandered through Hogsmeade together. Snow drifted down around them, probably the last of the season. The two counted themselves lucky. A gentle snowfall provided a great backdrop for a quiet, relaxing date. 

James expected nature to flourish soon. Being in the Scottish highlands made the cold weather last a little longer, but it was early March, and the lake already began melting towards the end of February. Spring was nearing, and it showed. 

Tom glanced down at James, smile fond. They visited the book store already, and the duo planned to get lunch before they wrapped up their shopping with restocking on parchment and ink. The small teen also wanted to visit Honeydukes, craving some sweets for once. 

"Where should we eat? I'm sure our usual companions are at the Three Broomsticks for their meal," the prefect asked, nodding towards the tavern. 

James shrugged. "We could put it off until we finish our shopping, if you want to avoid them?" 

Tom hummed in though. "I don't mind, to be honest. They know better than to bother us whilst we are on a private outing together." 

"That's fine, then. The Three Broomsticks has good food. I'm in the mood for some soup to warm me up." James grinned and looked up at his boyfriend. "Or we could just kiss. That'd warm me up just as well, I bet!" 

A disgruntled huff slipped out, and Tom narrowed his eyes at James. "You are a little minx, you know that?" 

"Oh?" James drawled, still grinning. 

"Indeed. Let's leave the deeper intimacy for our dorm room, though. I don't want anyone else seeing you worked up, whether I am responsible for it or not." Dark eyes locked on green, and Tom stared, heated, at his James. 

The small teen shivered. He leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Tom's lips, and pulled back with flushed cheeks and a shy smile. It still surprised him how much Tom wanted him, sometimes. The young man held such grace and cleverness that James could barely believe himself even close to Tom's level.   


 

Arm in arm, the two strolled over to the tavern for lunch. Sure enough, Abraxas, Louis, Jerod, and Alexander sat at a table near the fireplace, chatting in friendly company with a couple Ravenclaws. The Mulciber heir glanced up when he heard the door open, and spotted the duo, nodding his greeting from across the room. The others, attention grabbed by Louis, did the same before going back to their conversation.

"See?" Tom gestured vaguely to the group by the fireplace. 

"I didn't doubt you, Tom," James laughed. "Want to sit down while I order?" 

He smiled slightly at the offer. "No, it's fine. We can find a table after we give our orders to the waitress." 

Once they chose their meals and sat down at a booth in the corner, Tom leaned back in his seat. James was fiddling with one of the books they purchased earlier. Light caught his features and accentuated the planes of his face, catching on those dark eyelashes and casting small shadows across his cheeks. The little way James twisted his lips when he concentrated on something warmed Tom, and the Slytherin watched his lover, content to drink in the tiny nuances of his person. 

It struck Tom like a blow, air filling his lungs as he gasped quietly. He had no idea when his observations of James shifted from his beauty and intellect to the smaller boy's habits, how he ran his hand through his hair when he got frustrated, or the way his voice changed when he said good morning to Tom after they woke up. It overtook the taller teen and held his heart in an iron grip. He finally understood. 

"James," he whispered, bringing the boy's attention away from the book. "My little raven... I love you." 

Green eyes widened in shock. James stilled, heart thundering wildly in his chest, barely daring to hope. Had he heard right? Tom couldn't have said those words. He never expected to receive romantic love from the handsome young man. 

"You are so special," Tom continued, voice raw and insistent. "I don't know how, but I've fallen in love with you, James, my little raven. My love." 

"You actually mean it." James sucked in a breath of awe, tears welling in his eyes. "You really love me... Tom, I love you so much. I've loved you for months." 

Tom reached across the table and held one of those thin hands in his own, bringing it up to his lips. "I do, James. I promise it. I don't understand how, but I truly do love you." 

The tears finally slipped free, streaming down cheeks pulled into a beaming grin. Happiness rushed through James' chest as he played his lover's words again and again in his mind. He sighed dreamily. Tom loved him. Tom loved him. He never let himself hope for this outcome, not with what he knew of his lover. It seemed almost impossible, but it happened. 

"What now? Do we continue as before?" Tom asked, hesitant. He had absolutely no experience with romantic love. It was a thing he'd never understood before he fell for James. 

The small teen laughed brightly. "Yeah," he said, wiping his cheeks. "You've been very good about doing things romantically so far, our relationship is only going to be stronger for this. I mean, that's- that'd be what I'd assume." 

Slowly, Tom nodded, going over it in his mind. Recently, he began to want more time with James, despite already living together and taking most of the same classes. "So, for example, my desire to spend even more time with you would be indicative of my newfound feelings?" 

"It could be. It makes sense," James replied. "I'm not sure, either. Attraction is weird, and the lines blur." 

"Indeed," Tom muttered, unhappy with the lack of distinction. How could he tell a strong platonic attraction from romantic attraction? Was there any clear proof, or did he just have to guess? He'd felt affection for James before, and sexual desire. What made it different? The level of intimacy, maybe? 

"Maybe it has to do with emotional closeness. I've never been very open with people, as you know," Tom decided, "and I feel comfortable sharing more with you than other people." 

James rolled his eyes as his grin softened and turned fond. Of course his boyfriend tried to rationalize romantic love. "In any case," he said, "nothing needs to change if you don't want it to." 

Tom's gaze found James' for a moment and the teen read the open honesty in his boyfriend's eyes. "Alright, my little raven. We'll take things as they come." 

The two of them fell into comfortable talk as they awaited their food, going over the classwork they found most interesting, commenting about the upcoming midterm exams, and generally just enjoying each other's company. When their meals arrived  and they ate, they shared bites of food with each other, a habit Tom developed at the beginning of the year. Now, it wasn't necessary to get James to eat more, but it became more a product of closeness than the simple thing it had been. The duo's love showed in their actions and words. It was plain as day.


	32. Chapter 32

Stepping forward, a voice hissed out to the magical lock, completely confident in tone. A creak of moving stone caught the speaker's attention, and he grinned darkly at the sound, proven right. The porcelain receded and folded away, leaving a gaping hole beneath where it had been, darkness traveling down and down, to far to see without entering the seeming abyss. The information held true. The speaker peered down into the depths of the tunnel with a sense of anticipation building in his chest. He did it. He found what he'd been looking for since he first heard the rumors.

As if in a trance, he reached forward and commanded the ancient tunnel. In that same hissing tongue, he spoke the word for stairs, and gradually, steps rose out of the black, one by one. They reached the lip of the hole faster than the speed of their appearance suggested. Smooth and pristine, the stone steps showed no real wear from the thousand-odd years they had been there. The lack of people traipsing up and down them kept them perfect, edges carved with delicate motifs of serpents and spells. 

Finally, the speaker set his foot on the first step, mentally ready to descend into the tunnel and discover the secrets hidden within. Wand casting long shadows, he proceeded, an absent word closing up the passageway above him. No one else should find that place; it belonged to him and him alone. That was his heritage, his right, to do whatever he pleased. 

His form disappeared into the depths of the castle, further and further towards the answers he needed.   


 

Professor Slughorn called James to his office that evening, Tom curiously absent from the common room at the time. The professor didn't usually call James without his boyfriend, often needing to speak to both of them. The small teen wondered about what his Head of House wanted from him, or if it simply had to do with his performance in classes. He bid his friends goodbye and made his way through the dungeons at the requested time, ideas flowing through his mind. 

A light knock on Slughorn's office door garnered the typical 'come in' for him, and James pushed open the solid wood door and entered the room. He first spotted his professor, the man resting in his armchair with a box of crystallized pineapple and a glass of what looked like whiskey. His eyebrows rose, mildly surprised at the level of openness his Slytherin professor displayed so casually. 

James stepped over to the man. "Evening, professor. You wanted to see me?" 

The man gazed into the fire for a few moments longer, and then smiled weakly up at James. "Yes, yes, my dear child, I did. How are you, James? Anything been happening lately? Good, bad, something I can help with?" 

"Well," James began, considering. "Tom actually fell in love with me... I'm very happy, I didn't know if he would. We were close, but I didn't expect him to fully return my feelings. So yeah, something good happened!" 

That made the man's smile a bit more genuine. "That's wonderful, my child! I wish the two of you the best, of course. When I found out Tom was courting you, I was so very pleased. You two make a good match, and I'm incredibly fond of the both of you." 

James grinned, and ducked his head bashfully, happy at the honest praise. He knew that wasn't why Slughorn called for him, though. "So, what did you want to speak to me about? I'm sure it's not just asking after me; you could do that in the common room without a problem." 

A deep sigh slipped out before Horace could stop it, and he ran a hand through his hair. "No, you're right, James. I'm just reluctant to address the topic. It's very dark, and very dangerous." 

He gestured to the opposite armchair for his student to sit down. "Tom recently came to me for some information he believed, rightfully, I had. In his many forays into the Restricted Section, I'm sure, that boy discovered the existence of one of the darkest types of magic to exist. Naturally, he wanted to know more, the voracious academic he is." 

"What kind of magic, sir?" James had a bad feeling about this, and he knew he wouldn't like the answer. 

Again, the professor ran a hand through his hair. He took a large sip of the whiskey to steel himself, and explained, "It's a magic to anchor yourself to the mortal plain, my child. Dark stuff, some of the worst. Soul magic is generally benign or benevolent, and many cultures practice it regularly, but this... this horcrux is an abomination. You have to split your soul." 

James swallowed thickly, overcome with nausea. The idea of tearing yourself apart at the deepest level filled him with horror. He understood so much, though. Just that single piece of information answered so many questions he'd had about Tom and how the man became Lord Voldemort. If Tom split his soul... the damage done to his sanity had to be immeasurable. 

"I see you understand the gravity of this." The professor took another sip of his drink and shook his head. "Splitting the soul in half, and then anchoring it to an object, is regarded as one way to achieve a kind of immortality. As long as the soul in the object exists, the user can come back. It's heinous, and requires killing in cold blood, but possible." 

"And Tom wanted to know more about this. He wanted to know if it was possible, and how to go about doing it," James knowingly stated. There was no question in his voice. 

All Horace could do was nod. "Seven. He wanted to know if someone could do it seven times, James." 

"I'll look after him, professor. I promise." James knew he was lying in that moment, because Tom became that monster in the end, but he still wanted to help, to put the man's mind at ease. 

"James, my dear child, you are such a good boy. Thank you for reassuring this old man and laying his worries to rest," the man muttered, shooting James a relieved smile. 

"You aren't old, sir," James laughed, shoving down the guilt at lying to him. It was true, though. Slughorn was maybe in his late thirties, early forties. Certainly not old by wizarding standards, and only barely middle-aged by muggle ones. His professor was very knowledgeable and mature for being so young. 

"So you say, my child, so you say!" He huffed a laugh of his own, and stood. "I am glad to have you as my student, James. Thank you for speaking with me. I think we'd ought to get to bed, now, though. It's becoming rather late." 

Nodding, the teen stood. "Good night, professor." 

"Sleep well, James," Horace said, flicking his wand to organize the papers on his desk and cap the inkwell. 

James closed the door softly behind him, and heard the telltale click of the lock sliding in place, sure that his professor activated his wards moments after. 

On his trip back to the Slytherin dorms, worry swamped him, miring his mind in thick sludge, dragging up images of Voldemort from the future, his own time. He knew, he knew, Tom would become that. And yet... James couldn't regret falling in love with the young man. The other boy made him happy in the present and hold hope for the future, however bleak it seemed at the moment. 

Professor Slughorn's words about soul magic came to mind, and that hope for the future grew brighter. He would keep his promise to the man, though it would take much longer than Slughorn thought. If what he said about other cultures' magical practices held true (and he knew the man was right, Slughorn was a Slytherin academic like Tom, after all), then the possibility of fixing some of the damage to Tom's soul in the future existed. James had to research deeply, and search for the obscure, but it had to be possible. Magic could do the impossible, after all. 

And right now? 

He was working with magic.

  


Tom strolled back into the common room with a spring in his step and a book under his arm. He nodded regally to his followers and gestured for James to follow him back to their rooms, eager to share what he learned over the last three hours. His little raven could appreciate the gravity of his discovery, and the centuries of history behind it. He knew his followers would also appreciate it, but sharing a thing so deeply private with them sent disgust rolling in his stomach, skin crawling.

James, wonderful as he was, stood and walked after him without question. Tom really did love the smaller teen. And wasn't that a surprise? He hadn't thought himself capable of emotions such as love. 

When the door shut behind them, he cast the barrier spell he created for James, and turned to relax into the couch, gently setting his ages-old book on the coffee table. His boyfriend settled next to him, a soft smile and shining eyes for Tom. 

"How was your day, my love?" the prefect inquired, voice low and smooth. 

James chuckled quietly, and answered, "Good. I finished my homework early and read more on advanced warding. The concepts and theories are brilliant, really. I can't wait to try some of the spells." 

Humming, Tom combed fingers through James' black hair. He listened as his lover explained some of the more interesting wards he came across, and all the things that were possible with warding, itself. The small teen's voice relaxed him, and his bubbling excitement faded into a calm sense of triumph. 

"So, how was your day?" James asked, finally done talking about his own interests and ready to hear all about his boyfriend's life. 

Tom smirked. "It was wonderful. I finally achieved something I have been working on since my first year at Hogwarts. In fact, I wish to share my knowledge with you, if you're interested." 

"You know I am," James said, a cheerful cadence to his voice. Being with Tom pushed any remaining worries to the back of his mind. 

"Well," the other drawled, "I have come across something so deeply ingrained in the history of Hogwarts that it is known across the wizarding world. You've heard of the Chamber of Secrets, correct?" 

James gasped. That was why Tom hadn't been in the common room that afternoon. He should have known the Slytherin heir would finally find the place, given what he knew of Tom's history. 

Tom smirked at his lover's wide eyes. "Yes, I found it. My mother belonged to the line descended directly from Salazar Slytherin himself, and I was determined to find my birthright. Now that I have, my proof lies beyond my ability to speak to snakes. I am the true Heir of Slytherin... it's exhilarating. I spent over an hour down there, exploring the chamber, and reading." 

"Reading?" James asked, curious. He hadn't seen any books down there when he and Ron went to save Ginny. 

"There is a library down there, my James. A library filled with ancient knowledge, most of which no one has access to in this day and age." His eyes glinted with fervor and greed. His thirst for knowledge was exceeded by none, in James' opinion. Not even Hermione. 

"A library... Slytherin's library. Tom, that's amazing," James breathed, awed. And it truly was. 

Finally, Tom leaned forward and picked up the book he set on the table. Its title and author obscured by the strange writing, it gradually rearranged itself into a language James could read. Parseltongue had a written language. He never knew that, but it honestly didn't surprise him. 

"It's a book on defensive spells created by Godric and Salazar," Tom explained, still unaware his lover could speak the snake language. "The spells in here are beyond modern teachings. Magic, near its raw form, was used for these." 

James swallowed thickly, overwhelmed with emotion. Tom cared so much about this, and he chose to share it with him. With James, who still kept his true origins secret from the young man. It was wrong. He couldn't keep silent, knowing what he did, having such trust placed in him by the person he loved the most. 

"Tom... this is amazing. I'm so happy for you, and proud of you." James held his gaze, serious and unyielding. "I have something to tell you, too. I promise I love you, and I always will, but this might make you angry. I can't keep it from you, though, not after you trusted me with something so precious to you. Okay?" 

Tom's excitement calmed, and his eyes searched James' for even a hint of dishonesty. None to be found, he nodded slowly. "I promise to hear you out, then, before passing judgement." 

James smiled weakly at his lover. "That's all I can ask." After a brief pause to gather his courage, he began. "Time travel... is weird. You understand the complexities that go hand in hand with changing the timeline, right?" 

Nodding, the taller teen felt he had a fair idea of what James planned on telling him. "It's dangerous at best. Even I wouldn't dare travel through time to change things to my advantage." 

"Exactly." The boy let out a sigh of relief. "I am... from the future. Fifty-four years in the future, actually. Me ending up here was completely unintentional on my part. An enemy of mine tossed a weird potion at me, and it spilled. Next thing I know, I'm waking up, in a field in Surrey, and I have no clue what happened." 

"What made you decide to attend Hogwarts?" Tom asked, when James paused. 

He shrugged. "I had no idea if I was stuck here permanently, or if it was a temporary situation. Gringotts was able to help me with my finances, and I decided to go and do my sixth year, since I was going into it back in my own time." 

"Then you aren't really James Granford." 

James bit his lip. "Honestly, I'm more James Granford than I am my birth name. Back home, I had to wear a mask all the time. I couldn't- I couldn't be myself. It was hell, Tom, people hated me, or they were my friends because I had status, and I had to go back to my relatives every summer, and it was just so much-" 

"Hush," Tom crooned, pulling James into his arms and pressing the boy's head to his chest, over his heart. "You're here, with me, and safe." 

After hearing that much, Tom decided it didn't matter that James hid this truth from him. As they both knew, time travel was an unpredictable thing. Risking lives and the future over a whim would do nothing helpful. Only now, when James completely trusted him, did the small teen divulge the truth. It was reasonable, and the fact that James chose to tell him at all proved the teen's feelings. No, Tom didn't hold it against his lover. 

"I hated it," James whispered. "No one was honest. They just wanted to be my friends because of who I was." 

"I understand, love. It's okay." Deft hands rubbed circles on a small back, and he lightly kissed along James' cheekbones, nose brushing against the boy's dark lashes. "I'm not angry, my love. I do not hold you in contempt for keeping such an important secret from me. I only love you all the more for telling me now. You've proven yourself time and again to me, so how could I be angry?" 

James sniffled, face wet with tears. "I can't even tell you anything about the future! You're too well-known, Tom, I can't tell you anything!" 

"I know, my James, it's alright. Knowing I am important is enough for me, though I wish I could punish everyone who hurt you," he insisted. 

"I'm sorry, Tom," James whimpered. "You should be angry with me. I knew you, and yet I let myself get close. We aren't even friendly in the future, Tom, you hate me. You hate me."

"Do I hate you, or do I hate your mask? You say you've never been true to yourself in your time. How can I hate a person I don't know?" Tom sighed. 

The fact that he hated James' public identity was... distressing, but not outside of his consideration. He briefly wondered why he felt that way towards the boy, when he actually fell in love with him. It seemed like his own public figure had some issues to work through. Not that it surprised Tom. He was fully aware of how different he was, compared to the average person. Much of society would say he was broken or touched in the head, if they knew the real him. His supposed hatred of James wasn't very surprising. 

"I do not hate you, love, and I will never hate you. You are, as you said, more James Granford than whoever you used to be," Tom continued, voice firm. 

James breathed out in a whoosh of air, going limp in his lover's arms. "You do, though... I don't want this to go away, Tom. I don't want to lose you." 

"You won't." 

"But I will, if I ever go back. You don't know what it's like," James insisted. 

Tom glared. "Don't presume to speak for me, future self or not. I know how I feel right now, and I know it will never grow weaker. That is my final word on the subject, James. Give up. I will always insist I love you, now that I do." 

"Alright," James whispered. "Love you, too, Tom." 

The taller teen tightened his hold briefly, and hummed low in his chest. "Go to sleep, my love. I will keep you safe."


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, another smut scene! It's at the very beginning of the chapter, so heads up.

 

James awoke in warmth and comfort, eyes peeking open to see the dimly-lit bedroom he shared with Tom, since the end of November. His mind went over everything that happened the evening before, and he found himself relieved. Tom finally knew what James had been hiding from him since they first met. Weight lifted off his shoulders and a contented smile slipped onto his face. 

An idea popped into his head, and his smile took on a more mischievous edge. He slipped out of Tom's arms and slid further down the other teen's body, fingers trailing lightly enough not to wake his sleeping partner, but firm enough to send arousal coiling in his gut. His head slipped under the covers, and he gingerly slipped the waistband of Tom's underwear down over the half-hard shaft. 

Licking his lips, James took it in hand, dragging his palm up the length before squeezing just a little. A soft moan echoed in the room, Tom getting worked up in his sleep. Fingers circled the spongy head of the rapidly-hardening cock until it leaked precum, dribbling into the small teen's waiting hand. He slicked up the skin to move more easily, and watched as Tom's cock twitched under his ministrations. It looked amazing, flushed and hard and heavy in his hands. 

James wanted to know. He wanted to see if he could give his lover a blowjob, but he worried that it was too much. James hadn't been a Gryffindor for nothing, though, and he leaned forward to lightly lick the tip of the head. The salty-bitter taste of precum clung to his tongue, and James decided it was tolerable. He didn't remember the taste from his attack on Samhain, and sighed in relief. 

Gradually, his licks and kisses got bolder. He finally took the tip of the shaft into his mouth, closed his eyes, and sunk down onto Tom's cock. 

Heat tightened in his gut. The cock felt hot and heavy on his tongue, and it made his head swim. It slipped deeper as he let out a groan of pleasure. Tom's dick was in his small, wet mouth. He had no idea how appealing it was to suck someone's dick, but now that he was doing it by choice, it seemed so delightfully dirty. 

Fingers looped through his hair, and gently pushed him down a bit, hips thrusting up at the same time. James choked for a moment, before he was pulled off and dragged up for a heated kiss. His tongue pushed against Tom's, both mapping every part of the other's mouth. 

Pulling back with a gasping breath, James grinned salaciously at Tom. "Good morning." 

Tom smirked. "I see you're having fun. Did you enjoy your, my little raven?" 

"Yeah," James said. He wiggles his eyebrows at Tom, and scooted back on the bed to finish what he started. The other teen's member rested up against a toned stomach, still deliciously hard. James felt his own arousal twitch in interest as he moved closer. 

Mouthing up the length, James placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on the underside of the cock, sucking lightly on the thick vein running along it, dragging a loud moan from Tom. He kissed the head before taking it in his lips again. With a bit of concentration, he went further, careful to keep his teeth off the sensitive skin as much as possible. It hit the back of his throat, and he pulled back, bobbing his head as he moved. 

Tom ran his fingers through James' hair again, restraining himself from just going wild and shoving up into his lover's hot mouth. The sucking and slurping sounds sent lust rushing through him. His James looked so beautiful, sucking his cock, lavishing Tom with his complete and utter adoration. 

"So pretty, love," he purred, heavy-lidded eyes gazing down at James. "You're doing so well. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" 

James let his eyes fall shut, his lusty moan muffled by the cock in his mouth. Tom gently guided his lover into taking him deeper, holding the small teen's head just so, careful to angle himself. 

"Just like that, my little raven," he said, watching closely. "Swallow me down, my love. Open your throat- yes...." 

His last word slipped out as a soft hiss, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth as his muscles tensed and he held himself back from absolutely ravaging James. The little body gave a shudder at the hissing word, and that tight throat constricted around his cock. 

"Sssso good," Tom panted, head falling back. His eyes glazed over, mind focused on the sensation of James around him, taking his length all the way down, sliding against him with slick heat. "Sssso perfect, Jamesss. Amazing, my lover, my pretty Jamessss." 

Finally, finally, that pit of arousal in his stomach tightened, and Tom knew he was close. He made sure to warn his lover in English. "I'm almost there, James, love. You're so wonderful, so good." 

James pushed himself all the way down and hummed, nose pressed to the small curls of hair nestled around the base of that thick cock. It pulsed and throbbed in his throat. Hot liquid poured into his mouth and he gulped it down as well as he could, dizzy with lust. His stomach felt full, and he pulled off with a breathless grin. 

Tom tugged him forward and kissed him, the taste of himself on James' lips doing more to make him hard again than he would've thought. Once again, the young man smiled at the reminder that James belonged to him, that his little raven happily gave himself over without any hesitation or reluctance. He dominated the kiss with possessive fervor, tilting his lover's head so he could push his tongue deeper, claim more of that sweet mouth that belonged to him. 

Dragging his hand up the hardened length pressed against his thigh, Tom worked up his little raven even further. It wasn't long before the taller teen was ready to go again, the stamina of teenagers coming in handy not for the first time. He pulled away from the kiss to assess his James' state. 

"Do you want me inside you, my love?" Tom asked, voice deep. "Or, do you want me to suck you off, as a reward for doing so well? You're a quick learner, my little raven. You've done so well for me." 

James whined, needy. "Please, Tom! Want you inside me, I wa-want to make you feel good! I need you to f-fuck me!" 

"Still so easily embarrassed, love," he chuckled, cupping James' jaw with his free hand. "Of course I'll take you, my James, but you already made me feel so good. I want to pleasure you. How would you want me, love?" 

Used to the question, James backed up a bit, face bright pink, as embarrassed as Tom guessed. He turned around and lay on his stomach, ass high, legs spread. It was such a lewd position, but it felt so good to have Tom's hands on his hips, gripping tight enough to bruise while he pounded into James. 

"Hard," the teen bit out, face flaming. He buried his head in the covers. "Please, Tom, take me like this. You know how much I like it, how I love you- how I love the way you reach so deep, I just-" 

His mouth fell open as Tom pressed in, cock slick with lube, but no preparation. The teen pushed in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until he was fully sheathed in James. The velvety walls of the small teen's hole massaged his length, and Tom groaned aloud. 

"I know, my little raven. You've told me before, just what you like," he panted, waiting for James to relax around him. He wouldn't move until he was sure his lover wouldn't be hurt. 

When those soft walls loosened, he pulled out to the tip, sinking back in slowly, watching himself disappear into his little lover's body. The feeling of owning his James was heady, and he set a hard pace, not too fast, but deep, knocking the breath from the other teen. 

James rolled his hips, pushing back to meet each thrust. His back arched in an effort to raise his ass further. The fullness made him pant and croon in happiness. He loved to bottom for Tom. His partner was so good with his body, and attentive. He knew when to take charge. 

Before too long, they both grew close to the edge, pace increasing. Tom's hips stuttered in their thrusts, and when James felt that warmth spurting inside him, he came with a cry, ass milking Tom for every drop of his cum. Obligingly, the taller teen kept up his thrusts until James slumped over, sated and happy. 

They moved to the bathroom, taking care to clean themselves thoroughly. Morning routines followed, the lovers shared a few soft kisses in between activities, sparing a few seconds here and there to lavish extra attention on each other. Once they finished, they moved to the lounge, relaxed and ready for the day. 

The two packed their school bags in their usual comfortable silence. Tom carefully tucked his special book inside, placing a convoluted mess of protection and anti-theft spells on the historical artifact. He didn't actually expect that anyone would try to steal it, but the Slytherin heir never took those kinds of risks. 

Tom glanced over at James. "Would you tell me more about yourself, later today? I confess, I'm incredibly curious about what details you changed, love." 

Laughing quietly, James shrugged. "I don't mind. You know I can't answer everything, so as long as you don't press me, I'll happily answer questions." 

"Thank you, James," Tom said, smiling. 

They finished up just in time to head to breakfast with the others. Druella and Nathaniel waited for them in the hallway to the dorm rooms, bags slung over their shoulders, bright-eyed and ready to go. Both Rosier siblings were morning people. Abraxas and Jerod often cursed under their breath because of the energy those two emitted, and the rest of the group enjoyed their misery, watching without obvious comment.   
  


The day dragged on for some reason, leaving James a mess of restless energy by the time their final class wrapped up. He paced next to Tom, back in their dorm, mind going over every single detail he could possibly think of. He knew he had to be careful; if James shared too much, he could shift the course of history. Still, he felt impatient as his boyfriend spent a few minutes organizing his homework for the evening and stacking it according to ease of completion. Tom had a thing for good organization. The prefect liked a tidy work space, and that habit carried over to some of his personal life, as well. 

"Alright, my little raven, we can talk now," the taller teen drawled, relenting as James only grew increasingly anxious. 

The boy threw himself down on the couch with a dramatic huff. "Merlin's beard, Tom, you take forever to put your things in order!" 

"Ah, but you don't truly mind, love." He chuckled to himself. 

"No," James admitted, grumbling. "But come on! I want to get this over with. It's too much, the anticipation from what you could say, versus what you will." 

Tom rolled his eyes at his lover's dramatic behavior. The boy's worries were valid, but he didn't need to toss himself about like a ragdoll to convey his feelings. And yet, he was nowhere near Abraxas' level of drama, in any way, shape, or form. The Malfoy family just seemed to be that way. 

"I suppose I'll start, then." Tom paused to think for a minute, going over some of the questions he came up with earlier in the day. "Let's start simple; what is your family's status? Living relatives, dead, or estranged?" 

James shifted, awkward. "Ah, uh... I'm an orphan. My parents are dead, and I live with my- my muggle aunt her family. It's just her, my uncle, and my cousin." 

"And these are the people who abused you, love? Your filthy muggle relatives?" Tom remembered what James shared throughout the year, how he lived with his relatives, how they were non-magical, and how it was them who hurt the boy. 

Nodding, his green eyes slid down to stare at his lap, hands squeezing tight together. A large hand reached over to cover his, and James peered up through his hair to see Tom's fiercely protective expression aimed at him. Warmth curled in his chest and the tension in his shoulders eased. He breathed deeply for a moment. 

"Yeah. Yeah, they- they treated me like the scum on their shoes. Just standard stuff, y'know? Withholding food, ignoring me, having me do all the chores I physically could. I didn't get hit a lot, really. It was mostly Du- my cousin, and my uncle when he was really mad, or drunk." James gave a nonchalant shrug, long since used to his deplorable treatment. 

"How long were you with them, my love?" Tom wondered, frowning. "And how did you discover the wizarding world?" 

Blinking, James leaned back in his seat. "Since I was a year and a half old. So, uh, about fourteen, fifteen years, roughly. It was my Hogwarts letter that made them panic. It arrived, and I didn't know why, but my aunt and uncle looked scared." 

"As well they should be," Tom muttered darkly. 

"Well, the letters kept coming, and they eventually... gave up." James couldn't admit to the actual circumstances of him receiving his Hogwarts letter. It was too much a give-away, if Tom remembered it in the future. 

"You must've had cases of accidental magic as a child." Dark eyes brightened in expectation. "What kind of things did you do? Ever get back at those muggles?" 

Laughing, James nodded eagerly, more than happy to change the subject. "Oh, not too many, but yeah. I turned my teacher's wig blue, one time! Uh... I don't really remember anything else from before I was ten. My relatives blamed me for everything that went wrong, so I have no idea whether I actually did anything. If I did, none of it stood out." 

The taller teen picked up on that comment about age, though. "You had accidental magic after you turned ten?" 

"Oh! Yeah, I was talking to a Burmese python at the zoo, on D- my cousin's birthday, and when he shoved me out of the way to look at it, I vanished the glass. The snake escaped and then the glass reappeared. My cousin was trapped." 

Tom's eyebrows rose, a smirk stretched across his lips. Then, he realized what James actually said. He talked to the snake. He talked to the snake. If that meant what he thought, then... his James was only more perfect for Tom. 

"James, did you say you talked to the python?" His voice sounded oddly light, and he cursed at the fact that he couldn't hide his excitement properly. 

The small teen's mouth fell open in shock. "Oh, gods, I completely forgot about that! And I can tell you, now! Tom, _Tom_ , I'm a Parselmouth, too!" 

A deep laugh worked its way through Tom, leaving him grinning and breathless. "You are amazing, my love. Only you could forget about something like that." 

Pouting, James crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, it hasn't exactly been very important, recently. You would have asked more questions if I spoke it, and I didn't have to try very hard to hide it." 

"I know, my little raven," Tom replied. "The more I know, though, the more perfect a match for me you seem to be." 

James flushed bright red. He accepted the kiss Tom leaned over to place on his forehead, and sank back into the couch, equal parts embarrassed and pleased by his boyfriend's compliment. Tom and the others praised him plenty, but sometimes, it affected him more. Especially if James could tell that they said them with all the sincerity in the world. 

"I do wonder at your accidental magic, though. Most children have a better grip on it, by the time they're Hogwarts age. Do you have any idea what might've made it so volatile in you?" 

James considered Tom's question, and wondered about that, himself. Then, he remembered the blocks that the goblins removed. Anger burned in his eyes, but his voice was calm when he spoke. 

"I recently found out that someone put blocks on my magic and my learning abilities, in my early childhood." 

Tom froze. "They did what?" 

"Blocks. On my magic, on my ability to memorize things and do Occlumency. The goblins at Gringotts removed those before the school year began, after I arrived in this time period," James explained. 

None of the goblins knew who did it, or why, though he had his suspicions. There was no reason not to tell his boyfriend about the near-crippling force that caused him to struggle so much with his spells and schooling. He watched rage slowly overtake Tom's expression, unsurprised by the sheer force of it. His magic leaked out, restrained but potent. 

"No one should have that done to them. Magic is a gift; it's a part of every witch and wizard, not something to be trifled with like that!" The teen surged to his feet, pacing the room like a caged tiger. "That anyone would do that to a child disgusts me beyond words. How young were you? Could the goblins tell?" 

"Six. I didn't even know magic existed until I was eleven. All talk of fantasy and fiction was strictly banned from the house," James answered easily. 

"Someday, I'll find out who did that to you, and I'll destroy them. They will wish they'd never been born when I'm through with that pathetic excuse of a person." 

James smiled fondly. As much as he truly disliked torture, on others or himself, he knew Tom was like that. It was one way of showing he cared for the small teen, and James appreciated the meaning behind the words and actions. 

He stood and stepped over to his lover, wrapping arms around Tom's neck. With a gentle kiss, James calmed some of the indignant fury overwhelming his lover on the small teen's behalf. Soft eyes and a warm smile had Tom melting into the hug, and the other teen buried his face in the crook of James' neck. They stayed that way for a few sweet moments, simply enjoyed the physical contact. 

"I love you so much, James," Tom said, voice a whisper. 

James carded fingers through Tom's wavy hair and hugged him tighter. "I love you, too, Tom. It's okay. I'm here, and they can't reach me, now." 

A low growl slipped from the possessive teen. "Good. No one can hurt you, James. You're mine. Mine to protect, and mine to love."


	34. Chapter 34

The attacks began, and James watched on in forced indifference. He heard the story, back in his second year. Tom took him down into the Chamber of Secrets to meet the basilisk on friendly terms, and show him the suite of private rooms, those being in surprisingly good condition. There were journals from some of the earlier heirs, documenting their thoughts, some major historical events, and more. Past a certain point, though, the journals stopped appearing as the next heirs failed to find Salazar's secret. The preservation spells lasted through the centuries, but the place itself faded into legend. 

Tom found the ritual to create a horcrux in one of the... nastier journals. It belonged to Arlo Haephaus Slytherin, probably four or five generations after Salazar himself. It was noted that only the most dedicated wizard (and the failure to mention witches made both Tom and James disgruntled) should perform such a ritual. 

The description itself filled James with disgust. In addition to tearing the soul in two, it required the murder of an innocent, in cold blood, and an animal sacrifice. He refused flat-out to ever go through with the ritual himself, despite Tom's hopeful attempts to convince him. James just couldn't find it in himself to murder another person. 

"I will not, Tom. I can't do it, you're just going to have to live with that," James said, voice firm. "I won't stop you, but I can't stomach the thought of doing something like that for myself." 

Tom swept James into his arms and kissed  his cheek. "Alright, I'll concede to your choice, love. I just don't want to ever lose you, be it from age or illness, murder or accident." 

"And I understand," James replied, rueful. "It's just not something I can do." 

"Well, my little raven, I won't force you; you know that." Tom shook his head, fond, and sighed. 

"What next? I know what you plan to do, and I have no intention of trying to stop you. Will we just continue through the remainder of the year like nothing's wrong, or should I pretend to be scared of the attacks?" James asked. 

Humming, Tom released the small teen from the hug and leaned back against the elaborately-carved wooden desk. "I'm not entirely sure. My knights will guess easily enough that I am responsible for the attacks on the other students, so you won't have to pretend around them, regardless of the rest of the school. I think, perhaps, it would be a good idea to make plans for the summer." 

"The Granford family has property. I bet we could stay there, since I'm sure you don't want to go back to... London." James almost said 'the orphanage' to Tom, but thought better of it. 

"... do you expect to go back to your time? At some point?" Tom asked quietly. 

James closed his eyes. He hadn't thought much about whether or not he would be sent back, if there was some kind of limit on the magic that got him here in the first place. Tom asked a good question. 

"I don't know," James answered honestly. "If I do, it's probably going to be on the day I arrived, right? Magic works best with a frame of reference." 

Tom nodded seriously. "Threes, sevens, and thirteens are all magical numbers. Since you didn't go back in the first day, week, or month, and it's well past the third month, and into the seventh, we have only two possibilities left, by that logic." 

"The twelfth and thirteenth months," the small teen said. 

"Exactly. You arrived in August. The beginning of August or the beginning of September." 

The Slytherin heir turned to the bookshelf and searched through the titles, looking for any potions books that might be hidden among the treasure trove of literature. He pulled each one out and set them on the desk. Before too long, there was a sizable stack of books for him to go through with James. 

"You mentioned it was a potion that spilled on you. If any books have it, the potion should be in one of these. Not many things are powerful enough to send someone back fifty-four years," he explained. Tom met James' eyes with a wry smile. 

James sucked in a breath, understanding plain on his face. He picked up a book from the stack, one written in the script equivalent of Parseltongue. The title implied more neutral potions, as opposed to ones with mainly beneficial or harmful purposes, and he mentally noted that it was a good place to start. The potion he was doused with didn't affect him badly in any way, only transporting the teen back through time. He opened the book, taking in the author's name inside the cover. It wasn't one he recognized, but if it was in Salazar Slytherin's personal library, they must've known what they were doing. 

Next to him, Tom set down his own book to start a new stack. "There's nothing of time potions in this one. Just a series of ritual infusions and things used to practice the Old Ways." 

James peered over at it, curious. "Is that Olde English?" 

"Hm? Oh, yes. I spent my second year learning that, alongside Latin and several more useful translation spells," Tom said, shrugging elegantly. 

Rolling his eyes, James went back to paging through the book in his hands. "Of course you did, you big nerd." He laughed to himself. "It's actually cool, though. I'm not fluent in a second language." 

"I could teach you," the other teen offered. 

"I'd like that." James stood and kissed his boyfriend's cheek with a smile. "Let's get back to reading. I want to find out what that potion was." 

They fell into a focused silence as they turned their attention back to the pile of potions books on the desk, and the ones in their hands. After spending an hour paging through more than half the stack, James finally leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes, sighing. 

"This is bloody difficult," James grumbled. "How hard is it to find one, unique potion? It's really distinctive, too!" 

Tom shook his head. "Welcome to the world of extracurricular research; it is cold and cruel." 

Muscles relaxed as the small teen slumped bonelessly against the soft cushions of the velvet-upholstered couch. They had to be back in the castle proper by noon, given it was a Saturday, and they already spent over two hours in that little library that morning. James and Tom generally spent one part of their weekend days in the Chamber of Secrets, and the other part with their Slytherin companions, socializing and having fun. It was a good idea, too. That managed to balance out the extra academic work the pair did on their own time. 

He shifted and sat up, green eyes landing on the pages that fell open when he dropped the book in his lap. "Tom. Tom, I think I found it." 

The taller teen was next to him in a flash, staring over James' shoulder at the book. On the page, an illustrated depiction of a small, glass bottle was placed next to a short paragraph of text. The potion bottle held shimmering blue liquid, shifting and moving like loose sand. It was exactly the same as the liquid that spilled all over James, back in August. 

"Anno Momenti... 'Year of Importance' is a potion designed to send the user to where they are most important. Regardless of time and location, the user will be sent near immediately upon contact with the potion, be it by skin or imbibed." Tom frowned as he read from the passage. 

James stared at the page in disbelief. "I was most important here? This year?" 

That dragged Tom's attention back to his boyfriend. "Well, obviously you are. I am certainly elated to have met you, James. And given what you've told me about the future, I hold some significant measure of importance. I would not be the same person I am now, if not for you." 

Flushing, James swallowed thickly. "I don't really know what to say... I've been so happy here. If this was fate, though, why would I be sent here? There are so many other places, other times, I could've ended up at. Why here?" 

"I don't believe we'll find out, my love," Tom stated. 

James rubbed his eyes, holding back tears that threatened to escape. His feelings were a mess. He was meant to be there. Probably meant to run into Tom. The potion put him in the perfect place to run into his enemy, the one person who only ever posed a threat to him. If that was true, then were they supposed to fall in love? Or were the two of them meant to be bitter enemies, and they simply managed to twist their destiny? 

"Tom, I don't know what to do," James sobbed, finally breaking. "I thought it was- was an acci-accident! I didn't feel wrong for falling in love with you, not when it was something I chose! But- I can't- you might just love me because of stupid fate! Or I might have fallen for you because of it! What if our feelings are fake?!" 

Tom guided James to look into his dark eyes, hands cupping the small teen's jaw, thumbs wiping away the tears. "My James, does it feel fake? Did you fall for me right away? Or did it take time for you to love me? After all, it took time for me to fall in love with you. I doubt anything could force me to love someone, higher power or not. My love is real. Is yours?" 

Pushing back his fears, James thought back to when he first met Tom, on the Hogwarts Express. He was wary, and then fearful. That turned into interest and a basic sexual attraction, but not love. After a few weeks, that crush became fondness for the other teen, and then, finally, it grew into romantic love. 

"I do love you," James whispered hoarsely. "It's- it has to be real. I can't lose this, Tom, not after everything else I've been through." 

"Then don't." Tom smiled warmly down at his James. "You have me, my little raven, and I have you. Don't think I'll ever let you go, either. Not now." 

James nodded slowly. His hands came up to cover Tom's, squeezing them tightly, those large palms still cupping his jaw. He let himself believe in his lover's words. Of all the people James knew, Tom was the most strong-willed and determined. He said his feelings were real. That erased the guilt, the worry that James somehow manipulated Tom into loving him. Tom said he wouldn't let James go. The small teen knew he loved Tom, for one reason or another. He didn't want to lose Tom, and he believed the other teen's words. He'd never lose his lover. 

"Thank you," James breathed, and his eyes slipped shut. "Can we... can we go take a nap? In our room?" 

Tom gently pulled James to his feet. "Of course, my little raven. We still have two hours before lunch. That's plenty of time to rest together." 

James nodded in exhaustion. He leaned against Tom as they made their way back through the chamber, hissing out a slurred goodbye to the basilisk as they passed its nest. Half asleep, the small teen allowed himself to be guided back to their dorm room, emotionally drained and more than ready to just sleep.

 

  
That evening, the two of them sat in front of the fireplace in their rooms. 

"So. Anno Momenti." 

Tom looked up at James, eyebrows raised at the flat tone his little raven used. "Yes? What about it?" 

"Year of Importance, it was called. Sounds like our guess was right, huh?" The teen chuckled awkwardly. "I, uh, don't really know how to say it... but, I kind of don't really want to go? Back, I mean?" 

Tom moved over to sit with his arm around James. "I don't know how to prevent that, love, but I do know I'll still be around, then. You said so, yourself. All you have to do is contact me, my James, and I will come for you. You don't have to return to that dismal life you had before." 

James threaded his fingers with Tom's, holding the hand resting in his lap. He sighed, and asked, "But I'm not sure I can, Tom. Remember how I'm your enemy in the future? What if you decide you hate me, regardless of my time here?" 

"Then I would be a fool," Tom hissed, eyes narrowed in anger at his hypothetical future self. "If I ever forget how much you mean to me, my love, you should go and show me what I love about you." 

"And... what, uh, is that?" the small teen asked, shy and blushing. 

Tom chuckled lowly. "Your intelligence. How powerful you are. How your tongue sharpens when you're angered, and the expressiveness you have with your beautiful eyes and cute gestures. You sometimes bite your lip when nervous, you know, my little raven?" 

James blushed brighter as Tom continued, almost poetic in his descriptions. "I love how confident you are with dueling, and the way you don't hold back, but still manage to be helpful to those who need it. Your patience is a wonderful counter to my  anger, and how I cannot tolerate followers who are incompetent." 

Finally, Tom leaned down, breath ghosting against James' cheek. "And most of all, I love you, James."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!! People have been asking about whether or not I'm going to finish this, and my answer is: I Don't Know???  
> I might. But, considering I wrote chapters 1-27 over two years ago and have gone back to writing this because I *want* to, I can't guarantee anything. I might finish it, I might not. My point is that I will no longer be answering questions concerning the completion of this fanfic.
> 
> I may finish. I may not. It's entirely up to me, though, and I won't listen to people pressuring me to complete CoH&M.

James waited silently in the dorms as Tom left to perform the ritual for the horcrux. Tom said nothing about the small teen's unwillingness to be there for it, merely accepting his partner's choice and moving forward with his plans. Part of James felt guilt over not being there for such an important moment, and part of him ached to stop his boyfriend. In the end, though, he did nothing. James stood by and allowed an innocent girl to be murdered, and Tom's soul torn in two. He knew he would be blaming himself for a long time, after this.

His friends sensed something was off with him, too. Nathaniel, Louis, and Abraxas pulled him into a game of gobstones to try and cheer him up. James let himself be sucked into their rhythm.   


"So, where's Tom?" Abraxas asked.   


James sighed. "Somewhere. He's got some things he needed to take care of, and I didn't feel like going along."   


Nathaniel looked concerned. "Are you and Tom okay? You sound kind of unhappy."   


"It's just one of those days," James replied without pause. "I'm tired from studying. You know how it is."   


"Depression, then?" Nate said, frowning. He leaned back in his seat to get a better look at his friend. James did seem more tired than usual.   


"No, it's fine." A wry grin spread across James' face as he played his move. "I'm really okay, guys. Everyone has off days once in a while."   


He paused to look at his friends. "So, how are classes for you all? Are you studying anything interesting on your own? I've been doing some potions work."   


Abraxas hummed in thought. "Not much, I'll admit. My father sent me a book of more obscure French spells to learn. Part of the family history, you see."   


"Well," Nate said, "I've been working on mind healing, as you all know. My position in the ministry is almost guaranteed, so I have more time to focus on my mastery. Once I graduate, I'll take an apprenticeship under a healer, and get my mastery."   


"That's brilliant, Nate!" James exclaimed, perking up. "So, you'll be taking on patients as a side job while you work at the ministry?"   


"Yeah," he confirmed. "It's what I want to do, but I have family obligations to keep in mind. I'm just lucky my parents won't protest, as long as I keep our standing in society as it is now."   


Next to him, Louis nodded. "Me as well. I plan on going for a charms mastery. I'm so good at cosmetic charms that I think I'll work with the DMLE as a disguise crafter. It's lucrative enough, certainly."   


"Oh, I've never heard of that," James commented. "What's the job like?"   


"It's primarily making disguises for aurors who need to go undercover," Louis explained.    


Abraxas nodded. "They also invent the occasional magical object to use as a more solid disguise. Charms are fairly easy to dispel, if you know what you're doing, but anchored glamours work wonders to keep you hidden."   


"Are you taking Arithmancy, then?" James asked, curious.   


Louis groaned. "Yeah. OWLs are hell this year. I'm not the best at maths, see? I can do it, when I need to, but I'm much better with charms and lesser transfigurations. If I do go into disguise crafting, I think I'll leave the anchored glamours to my coworkers."   


Nathaniel snorted, and said, "That's fair."   


"Well, at least you have a career path picked out. Don't lots of people change their minds a bunch of times before- and after -they graduate?" James wondered. It was like that in the muggle world, at least. The magical world had different jobs, but there had to be just as many.   


Nate and Abraxas both nodded. "It's true. Most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight focus entirely on politics, but with the number of competent wizards decreasing slowly, more and more jobs are readily available. The stagnation plays into it, too."   


"So the economy is suffering," Louis said, finishing the explanation. "People want to do so many things, but there are also just as many job opportunities available, it's hard for them to choose."   


James swallowed thickly. The knowledge that their world, their culture, began a downward spiral so early on... it made him nauseous. He considered how Diagon Alley looked when he first arrived. How the Leaky Cauldron was full of people, and the shopping district was packed full. Even Hogwarts had plenty more students in each house, overall.    
A good amount of the population decrease had to do with the two wizarding wars, he knew. Grindelwald and Voldemort held great sway over parts of their society, and their followers killed. Were killed, in turn. Many older families dwindled down to a sole heir, or were wiped out completely. They were gone.    


"That's why you're all planning for a long term solution," James stated. He learned their full plans in December and January, after Yule, but sometimes, it took conversations like this to throw it into perspective.   


"Exactly." Abraxas sounded very pleased, satisfaction clear in eyes.   


Nate grinned, and nodded. "Tom came to Hogwarts, and people ignored him at first. Pretty foolish, honestly. He had big ideas, though, and the determination to see them through. His natural charisma and proven bloodline is what made all of us pay attention to him. After that?"   


"Tom reeled us in, after that," Abraxas finished. He glanced over at Louis. "The following years fell into line."   


"Yeah. Once he got his foothold, politics in Slytherin changed in his favor." The seventh year leaned back in his seat, hands clasped behind his head.   


James smiled faintly at the clear respect and admiration his friends had for Tom Marvolo Riddle. His lover was a true leader, clever and powerful, with just the right balance of reward and punishment.    
  
At least, at the moment.   
  


 

Tom stumbled into his room well after curfew that night. James rose to consciousness slowly, blinking at his lover in the darkness, not fully registering what he saw. The other teen gingerly sat on the bed, entire body aching, head pounding. He ignored the trembling in his fingers as he undid the buttons on his uniform, one by one. He slipped his shirt off before James fully woke up.   


"Tom!" Small hands reached out. "Are you okay? You're shaking!"   


"J-Just the aftereffects... of the- ritual." He clenched his teeth, frustrated. He hated not having control over his body and mind. And like he told James, he was definitely affected by the events of that day.   


James pulled Tom into his lap and gently stroked his boyfriend's hair, humming quietly. "It's okay, Tom. I'll take care of you, okay? You've done it for me so many times. Let me help you."   


Tom gave in and relaxed, and a huge sigh slipped from him. "Thank you, my little raven."   


"Love you," James whispered. He laughed at the arrogant smirk that stretched across Tom's lips. "You dork."   


"Ah, but I'm your dork," Tom teased, eyes closed, breathy chuckles causing his shoulders to shift.   


"Go to sleep, Tom. I'll tell the professors you stayed up too late doing extra work," the small teen said. He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the tip of his lover's nose."I'll wake you at lunch."   


Another sigh escaped the exhausted Slytherin. He reluctantly followed James' command to sleep, and his breathing evened out to the steady rhythm of that hand in his hair. The last conscious thought in his mind was that James could make a perfect caretaker.   
  


 

Late morning rolled around by the time Tom woke up. He stood and stretched, muscles aching from the phantom pain of what he did. His mind numbed in the quiet of the dark room. Thinking back to the day before, part of him didn't believe it really happened, the sense of disconnect so strong. It had been laughably easy.   
Killing the girl opened a new world to him. He hadn't really comprehended his violent urges before, or how he was so fascinated with death and torture. Even though he killed through a proxy, the basilisk, it was still him giving the command to end a human life. He chose, of his own free will, whether that girl should have lived or died, and gave her death a purpose.   


The first few minutes after the kill were focused on completing the horcrux. Tom refused to waste any time, focusing his mind on the calming effects of performing magic, and went through with it. He felt detached at the time, as if he wasn't fully in the present.   


After the ritual finished, his emotions caught up to him, and the basilisk had to take him back into the chamber, Tom too out of control to do anything. As he said to himself, he wasn't unaffected by the death of the girl. His first murder.    


Nausea rose in his stomach as he gagged and swallowed back extra saliva. His stomach churned and he couldn't tell whether the positive emotion he felt was relief or satisfaction. Either way, it mixed with a very slight but potent guilt that he shoved down with the idea that he made sure the death had meaning, purpose. It settled his nerves enough to help him function again. He let himself rest and reorder his mind, after that.   


Once he deemed himself calm enough, Tom took the time to carefully place his diary, his new horcrux, on the desk in the chamber's private library. Only he and James could reach it, and until he had another place for something so important to him, it would have to stay there.   


So, Tom returned to his dorm. He let his little raven comfort and care for him, and fell asleep in James' lap. He didn't dream, that night, and waking up just brought back the disconnect from before. He enjoyed the silence, content to sit and stare off, unseeing.   
He waited. For James, and for himself.

  
  
Headmaster Dippet stepped up to the podium and gazed out at the students, expression grim. Seated with his friends at the Slytherin table, James played with his breakfast nervously, waiting for the bomb to drop. He knew exactly what the old man had to tell them. Apprehension ate at him the longer Dippet spent in silence. The man was waiting for the majority of the attention to focus on him.   


Dippet opened his mouth after three minutes without speaking, merely looking at his students. "You all know about the attacks that have been happening, of late. Up until this point, every student injured in the incidents has merely been petrified, and will be revived as soon as we have the potion crafted."   


A hush fell over the hall. The older and more clever students were able to read between the lines of his words. They understood what this announcement was about, and they waited for the terrible confirmation that they were right.   


"A student was found early this morning, dead. With the escalation to killing, the staff and I have decided to close the school until this horrible mystery can be solved," Dippet finished, bowing slightly. "I sincerely apologize for my failure as the headmaster, to keep you all safe."   


The moment he came out of the bow, all the students started talking, arguing, and generally making noise. People at the Ravenclaw table noticed the absence of a younger student. The information spread to the other three tables fairly quickly, everyone looking over at the blue-covered table. Some of the Ravenclaws in the missing girl's year told the others her name, mentioned how she never came back from lunch the day before.   


James shook his head at the worried looks sent his way. Almost all of Slytherin took note of Tom's absence, but most of them didn't know the prefect well enough to be sure he was okay. Next to James, Druella and Abraxas watched the other Houses in silence.   


"Do any of you know about the dead student?" Cygnus Black asked, leaning towards Tom's group.   


Nate shrugged. "Not really. She's a Ravenclaw, from the way people are reacting. Doesn't seem very popular, though."   


"I'm not sure whether to be sad a student died, or happy that it was a mudblood," Abraxas muttered. "If it had to happen, that was the least important target."   


Druella scoffed at his words. "Remember the things James told us? They're useful to our society! And-! She was a person, 'Braxas! Don't be so callous."   


He rolled his eyes in response. "People die, Druella, it's inevitable."   


"Yes, but you don't have to be rude about it!" She pointed her fork at him. "If you say thinks like that anywhere outside the common room again, I'll hex you so hard you'll have to go to St. Mungo's."   


Cygnus, who kept listening to their conversation, chuckled to himself. He did appreciate his betrothed. Their parents worked out a marriage contract two years earlier, and he had been pleased with their choice of partner for him.   


James sighed. "Guys, can you not? I'm... not comfortable talking about this. You know I don't hate muggleborns."   


Abraxas deflated at that. "Sorry, James."   


Shaking his head, the small teen offered a small smile. "It's okay. I know it's odd to have someone with those views in your social circle."   


"That doesn't excuse our inattention," Nate stated firmly. "You are part of this group. We need to respect your views, even if we don't agree with them. You don't bother us about our dislike of mudb-  _ muggleborns _ ."   


Around him, the others nodded, Alexander included. It was early May, and everyone had come a long way from their rigid and hateful views they started off with at the beginning of the year. It took time, but that was something James had plenty of, at the moment. He could both address issues his friends worried about and give them ways to prove muggleborns and squibs held some major importance to their society, and worth being viewed as of equal value. The small teen counted himself lucky that his friends were open-minded enough to think critically about those rather touchy topics.   


"Thank you, guys," James said. The sick feeling in his stomach lessened enough to bring back his hunger, after their brief conversation. He forked up some of his eggs and tucked them in his mouth, chewing slowly.   


Beside him, Louis smiled and bumped shoulders with James. "You're welcome, James. Nathaniel is right."   


"Breakfast is almost over; are you going to get Tom before classes?" Abraxas asked.   


"No," James replied, shaking his head. "He stayed up all night, working on a personal project for potions research."   


"Planning on getting him for lunch, then?" the blonde boy amended.   


Druella smirked at James, and leaned forward. "How about having him for lunch?"   


Heat rose to James' cheeks as his eyes went wide in shock. His hands flew up to cover his obvious reaction. Around him he could hear protests and laughter, from Druella's question eliciting different responses from different people. He loved Tom, and wasn’t ashamed of their relationship, but having it thrown into the spotlight for everyone to judge scared him. That lingering doubt instilled by his relatives, that people like him were abominations, gripped his heart and forced his stomach into knots.   
A smack echoed, and James hesitantly peeked out of his fingers to look over at Druella. Vera, her best friend, stood behind her with an angry glare directed down at the girl. Druella's cheek had a faint, pink handprint glowing on it.    


"That's enough." Vera didn't just look angry, she sounded angry.    


"Wha-"   


"No. You stop." Druella tried to speak, but the seer interrupted her mid-word. "I am all in favor of friendly teasing, but this is not the time nor place for that kind of vulgar joke. You know better than this, Druella."   


Her voice dropped in volume, and she continued so no one outside their group could clearly overhear. "James is shy and dislikes attention, and you know that. What could've possessed you to make fun of something like that?"   


James swallowed and slowly uncurled from hiding behind his hands, shoulders dropping just a bit. He looked up at Vera with gratitude. Her blue eyes caught his expression, and she smiled kindly at the small teen.   


"I'm... I'm sorry, James," the ashamed girl muttered, visibly downcast and remorseful about it. "I didn't think."   


He smiled weakly. "Ah, uh... it's okay. Please don't do it again?"   


"Of course," she replied instantly. "I really am sorry. I know you're shy about a lot of things, but I was caught up in the moment, and I just wanted everyone to stop worrying so much about th-the attack. It's horrible that someone died, and they're going to close the school. I just. I wanted to cheer everyone up."   


"I understand, but I don't want to be used like that. It's not the first time, and it probably won't be the last," James said.    


His mind drifted back to the information he and Tom found on the potion that sent him here, Anno Momenti. A year. He had only a handful of months left with these people. There weren't many people in his own time that made him feel at ease like Tom's group of Slytherins did. He wished he could stay in their time.   
James would never be so lucky, though.


End file.
